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:i 



THE WEDDING FEAST, 



A TRAGIC DRAMA IN THREE ACTS, 



WITH A PROLOGUE, 



HALLOWE'EN, 



BY 



William Augustine Leamy. 



The Scene is laid in Clifton, a town of Kent. The period 
is that of Wat Tyler's Rebellion. 



Copyright, 1S96, bv VV. A. Leahy. 



BOSTON. 



THE WEDDING FEAST, 

A TRAGIC DRAMA IN THREE ACTS, 



WITH A PROLOGUE, 



HALLOWE'EN. 



BY 



William: Auoustine Leahy. 



The Scene is laid in Clifton, a town of Kent. The period 
is that of Wat Tyler's Rebellion. 



Copyright, 1896, by W. A. Leahy. 



BOSTON. 



PSZ235 



PROLOG!- TJE. 

H ALLOW^E'EN. 



CHARACTERS : 

Jock o' Dean, a young yeoman. 
Madam Dean, his mother. 
Kitty Dean, his sister. 
Winnie Darling, his cousin. 
" Edgar L' Estrange." 
Villagers. 

Scene : Deati Cottage. Doors at R 3 E, L 2 e, and L in flat. A round 
window with wooden cover at R in flat. Hearih-fire at r with crane. Tables 
heaped with nuts and apples. Benches. A tub of water. Apples hung from 
ceiling. Flitches of bacon and hams. Evergreen festoons. Candles li^t. 

Madam Dean discovered helping wood on fire. Enter Kitty, l 2 e, 
with a lapful of nuts. 

Kitty. There you are. Plenty for all. The filberts are good this 

year. {Nibbles ofie. Enter Jock o' Dean, r 3 e, muffied up, 

high boots, shovel in hand) 
Jock. I must shovel a way in for the neighbors, mother. The 

snow's drifted over the path three feet deep, and still coming 

down like an old ewe's fleece in the shearing trough. VVhat 

are half the benches set over there for, Kitty .^ 
Kitty. This side is for the lads and the other for the lasses. 
Jock. Ha ! ha ! Do you think you can keep them apart.'' Not on 

Hallowe'en. Why ; this is sweethearts' own night. — Come ; 

come; fill the tub brimful. Don't be stingy — at least with 

vv^ater. How could Ned duck his red shock under that film.'' 

A minnow-pool ! Brim it up, lassie ! 
Kitty. Ned Baker's hair is not red, Jock o' Dean. It's as brown 

as your own, and you know it. {Jock kisses her) 
Madam. Fetch the cider, Kitty ; we've little time. 
Kitty Where's Winnie.'' 
Madam. Upstairs. 
Kitty. Tell her to watch my nuts, especially when Merry Andrew's 

'round. 
Madam. She watch.'' The shy wean, she couldn't frighten a 

squirrel. 
Jock. But she's the flower of us all, mother. Mother, you have 

seen Winnie and me grow up together. 
Mother. Aye ; under this roof. 
Jock. We have lived like brother and sister. Maybe you'ld like — 

maybe you'ld like — 
Madam. I'm not saying no, — If I understand you, son. 
Kitty. {Singing) She's o'eryoung to marry yet. 
Jock. Sixteen. 
Madam. And but three years between you. 



Jock. I cannot hold back longer. The love leaps to my lips when 

I see her. I must ask her to-night. 
Kitty. And what will she say, think you.'' 
Jock I have her good will, I believe. 
Kitty. Don't be too sure. 
Jock. The ribbon she gave me. 
Kitty. Winnie's learning women's ways. 
Jock. And the blushes I stii in her cheeks. 
Kitty. I siiw redder ones yestermorn when Edgar, the troubadour, 

greeted us. 
Jock. Who.? 
Madatn. A roving nobody that's passed through the village lately. 

Qiiit your teasing, Kitty, 
Kitty Oh ! only brotliers may tease, I see. 
Madam. I have long looked for it, Jock. May God speed you to 

her heart. {Exit R 3 e) 
Kitty. And me to the cider-shelf. {Exit l 2 e) 
Jock. And me to the snow-drift. {Enter Winnie R 3 k) 

Winnie. Jock ! 
Jock. {At r> y) Winnie! A new gown .? How dainty ! 

Winnie. Nay ; my old best one, but trimmed a bit here. 
Jock. For the party to-night.? 
Winnie. For — the party to-night. 

Jock. Oh! you should be robed in silks, Winnie. {She starts) 

The bit of red becomes you like his new gorget the robin in 

spring. But the wrappings? You are not going out.? It's 

cutting cold. Oh! to the milk-shed; yes. Good-bye, then. 

Winnie ( Apart) He thinks I called him back to look at my gown. 

Jock. We shall have something to say to each other to-night, 

Winnie. {Exit D f) 
Winnie. Oh! I can't tell them. What if Jock should— (vS/^z^/z 
de/ls) Hark! Bells! He's coming. {Re-enter Madam k t, k) 
Madam. { With dishes, singing sojtly) And wasn't that a dainty 
dish to set before a king. 
Watch the wheat-cakes for me, Winnie dear, and turn them 
when they're brown. What! anew trimming on your gown. 
This is what has kept you upstairs so much of late. So pretty ! 
{Kisses her) Tut! the cakes are burning. {Goes to hearth. 
Enter Edgar L' Estrange at d f) 
Edgar. Winifred. 

Winnie. My Lord. {Re-enter Kitty with cidc-jars 1. 2 e) 
Kitty. Welcome, Edgar L' Estrange. 
Madam, { Turning) So this is Edgar L' Estrange. 
Edgar. I am known, I perceive. 

Kitty. Yes; indeed. Take a handful of nuts and as many apples 

as you can bite your teeth into. {Swings one toward him) 

Madam Ay ; stay by our fireside, minstrel, and sing us a song to 

gladden the guests. 
Kitty. Or recite a love-tale. It's Hallowe'en. 

Edgar. A love-tale.? Listen, ladies. {Drazving Winnie to him) 

For this cheek 
I liave forsworn a vow. 



Kit. Forsworn a vow 

For Winnie's cheek? 
Ed. I was a boy, just riping. 

Love made his rounds about me and all felt 

The sweet sting of his arrows. I alone, 

Who measured maidens by my mother's memory. 

Passed early youth heart-whole. But man must love. 

Of love my soul begot a beauteous vision, 

And her I long pursued. To her I paid 

The first-fruits of my knighthood. In her name 

My sword smote wonders. In my tent at night, 

Or on the rapid march, or in my bark 

On the moon-misted sea, I dreamt of her. 

Against the soft seducings of my heart 

Toward some veiled beauty of the Eastern marts, 

Or olive, bronze-eyed girl of Italy, 

I set her golden loveliness. 
Kit. Was she 

An angel, stranger? 
Ed. Nay ; a vision, such 

As minstrels dream. But once there came a thought : 

What if some day I saw mv love on earth, 

So fair, so sweet, so pure? Then should I woo her? 

Ah me ! the lost souls do not woo the angels. 

Do lovers love tlie maidens whom they woo? 

Methinks a man should set love's mark so high 

That she who should be worthy of his love 

Were far too holy that he should possess her. 

Nay ; I should worship her afar, nor stain 

Her soul with touch of mine. That thought I framed 

Into a vow, a young knight-errant's rash, 

Heaven-scaling vow. But when I saw you, love, 

And your untroubled eye shone deep and clear 

Into my soul, — we loved each other. So 

I was forsworn. 
Win. It is no sin, my lord. 

Mad. and Kit. My lord ! {Noise of Jock shovelling-) 
Ed. So ends his last love-tale Edgar, the troubadour. To-night 
I throw of}' the sportive mask. ( Throws back cloak) Know 
me now as baron Conrad Norman. 
Mad. and Kit. The lord of the valley ! 

Ed. By God's grace, — having lately, as you may have heard, come 
into my uncle's title. Under the guise of a roving minstrel I 
have wooed and won your niece, Madam Dean. In my own 
name, I am here to claim her tor my bride. 
Mad. Bride ! 

Kit. The love-tale was true, then? 

Ed. ( To Winnie) Can it be envy that clouds them so? 
Win. Nay, my lord ; they meant me for — another. 
Mad. ( Curtsying) We wish you joy, baron Norman. 
Kit. ( Curtsying) And your ladyship. Will you not remain till 
the neighbors come ? 



IVtn. {Quickly) Oh! no, my lord. 

ICii. {Aside to Madani) She has never told him of Jock. 
Ed. It would please me to share in your hospitality. But my own 

awaits Winifred. The revels are already begun at the castle, 

(^Assists Winnie) 
Mad. And of course ours are humble to them. 
Kit. As homespun to velvet, my lord. 
Ed. Forgive me. I had thought to give you a glad surprise, — 

forgetting what a treasure I rob you of. 
Kit. That which goes freely is not robbed. 
Mad. And vou proclaim your purposes honorable, my lord. 
Ed. Before all the world. Honorable and larger than you dream. 

Every cottager in this valley will bless the day when a village 

girl became baron Norman's bride. 
Kit. Shall we, my lord.-" 
Mad. 1 trust we may. 
Win. Farewell, Mother Dean ! Farewell, Kitty ! ( They curtsy 

coldly. She weeps) 
Ed. Come, Winifred ! Come! Come! {Exeunt Viv) 
Mad. She that I took in an orphan without kith or kin, and reared 

like one of my own. {Sleigh-bells. Jock 'whistles ) 
Kit. This will kill Jock. {Enter Jock., snoivy., at l 2 e) 
Jock. Whew ! There ! I've shovelled all around. Who was that 

came ? 
Mad. None, as yet. 
Jock. 'None yet.'' Then the witches are abroad. Didn't I hear 

sleighbells.'' You're plaguing me. It's Ned Baker ; of course, 

he's the first. Eh, Kitty.'' Where's he hiding, the rascal.^ 
Kit. It wasn't Ned. 
Jock. Who was it, then.'' Where's Winnie? What are you both 

looking so dark {ox} { Calls a/ R 3 e) Winnie ! 
Mad. She's gone, Jock. 
Jock. Gone.'' Oh! of course, to the milk-shed. She'll have 

tingling cheeks, the lassie, when she comes back. It's cutting 

cold for Hallowe'en. A log on for Winnie ! 
Kit. She's gone away. 
Mad. Not to come back. 
Kit. To live with the new baron. 

Mad. He wooed her secretly as Edgar, the troubadour. 
Kit. 'Twas his sleigh-bells you heard. 
Mad. They are on their way now to the castle. 
Jock. The castle ! 

Mad. No, no, not that, not so bad as that. 
Kit. She went Ireely. 
Mad. To be his bride. 

Jock. Bride ! — Are you jesting at me.^ — Mother ! 
Mad. I would it were some jest, that a word could end. In all 

soberness, she has gone to the castle to be baron Norman's bride. 
Jock. Bride! In that nest of harlotry ! — Snow here .^ {Loudly^ 

Winnie! — My God, they have stolen her from me! Oh, 

slaves that we are ! {Enter neighbors 2 l E, Marion., Ned 

Baker .^ Merry Andrew .^ etc., romping) 



Jock. ( 7t? D f) Slaves ! 
Kit. Stop him ! 

Mad. Jock, you are mad. {Exit Jock d f) 
Jock. ( Outside) Slaves ! 
Kit. The wind howls like a wolf. 

Mad. He will follow them and perish in the snow. {Merry 
Andrew steals a handful of nuts) 

[curtain.] 



THE WEDDING FEAST. 



Time : seven months later. 



SCENES. 

ACT I. 

Scene I. Dean Cottage. 
'^ II. The Witches' Den. 
" III. Court-yard of the Castle. 

ACT II. 
Clifton Green: The Wedding Feast. 

ACT III. 

Scene I. Willow Road. 

" II. Friar Nod's Cell. 

■' III. The Witches' Den. 

" IV. The Bridal Chamber. 



DRAMATIS PER SON yS. 

Jock o^ Dean, an Outlaw. 

Merry Andrew, a Village Idler. 

Baron Conrad Norman. 

Sir Frank Romainbs. 

Friar Nod. 

Ned Baker, Kitty Dean's Betrothed. 

Hubert, \ 

_ f Guards. 

Bernardo, > 

Charles, the Parish Beadle. 

Tom Harvey, a Serf. 

Allan Forster, Lieutenant of Wat Tj'ler. 

Marvin Keep, Sheriff, and Warden of the Castle. 

Lady Winifred Norman, Bride of the Baron. 

Kitty Dean. 

Madam Dean. 

Marion. 

Raimond, a Page. 

Blind Robin. 

Knights, Ladies, Outlaws, Serfs, Villager.s. 



7 
ACT I . 

SCENE I. 

Dean Cottage. Table and cupboard at l rear. Madam Dean discovered 
at R rear, pillowed in an arm-chair. Enter Kittv, r 3 f.. 



Kitty. {Apart) Poor mother ! {Aloztd) There's the ribbon, 
mother. See, his name in blue thread, the very stitch I taught 
her when we used to knit together in Mercv Fletcher's doorway. 

Madam Dean. Is Robin come.'' 

Kitty. Not yet. {Goes io n F and glances out l) Here's Friar 
Nod, trudging down the hill. Poor old man, his feet can 
hardly carry him the long journeys he must make. {Lowing 
of a cow from l. Kittv takes milk-pail frotn table and 
co?nes down l) Moo ! Moo ! Milk me ! Milk me ! Stop 
your lowing, Hetty Dean, you saucy old cow ! {Exit l '3 e) 

Madam Dean. {Eyeing ribboti) Will you know the gift, Win- 
nie Darling.'* Will you remember the birthday a year ago 
when you flattered my poor boy's heart with this trinket from 
your own pretty fingers.'' Seven long months since Hallowe'en, 
when she went up to live in the castle ! {Marvin Keefs head 
at window) That week Jock v^ent off into the forest, an 
outlaw. Then all the slanderous tongues began to wag, and all 
the godly censors to judge my boy for the crime that was no 
crime. {Re-enter Kitty I. 3 E, with pail, milk spilled over 
her aprojt. Removes apron) 

Kitty. Well, Hetty's in a temper, too, this morning. That's 
twice she's kicked it over, — and as for her tail ! {Enter Keep 

D F.) 

Madam Dean. Never headsman's axe dealt juster blow than the 

fist that felled Marvin Keep ! 
Kitty. The wolf! 
Keep. ( Cotning forward) A certain name is on your lips, 

mesdames. 
Madam Dean." {Startled) You darken my door again.'' 
Keep. Tour door.'' {Draws out a process) What have you 

there.? Some token from Kitty's spark, Ned Baker.'' {Snatch- 
es at ribbon) 
Kitty. And if it were, you dare not so much as finger the edge of 

it ! You're brave enough to come with your process and drive 

two women from their roof — 
Madam Dean. Peace, Kitty. Is all to be taken, sherifl? Keep.'' 
Keep. {Flourishing writ) All, says the process. 
Kitty. And for what.? 

Keep. Because a felon's goods are forfeit to the crown, sweetheart. 
Kitty. Felon yourself! 

Madam Dean. You provoked him to the blow. 
Keep. {Reading) " To the sheriff^ of Cliftoushire, greetings 

from Richard, his majesty. You are hereby commanded, on 



8 

the i6th day of June, in the year of our Lord, 1381," — to- 
morrow, Mad;im Dean, — " to seize all lands .and goods " — 
Madam Dean. To-morrow.'* 
Keep. Did I not give you warning enough? Have I not made 

you a friendly ofier.? To-morrow at sunrise my constables will 

be here, — unless, — need I speak plainly, Kitty? 
Madam Dean. You think plainly. {Enter jock with a brace 

of fowl, and Ned^ d f) 
Keep. You don't answer. I can stay the process. I can fit your 

sweet body with many a fair gown, ay, ( Whispering') and 

lift the ban of outlawry from him that robs in the forest. 
Kitty. And your price for these favors? {Keep tries to kiss her. 

She slaps his face) 
Keep. Hussy! You're too proud for your station. {Seizes her. 

Kitty shrieks. Jock lays fowl on table and flings Keep 

aside, laughing in fnockery of his disconifiture) 
Madam Dean AND Kitty. Jock! {Madarn Dean hides the 

ribbon) 
Jock. Pretty play, grave officer ! {Fiercely) Draw! 
Keep. I am an old man and stifl', Jock o' Dean. 
Jock. Four-score winters had whitened Jonas Whittaker's hairs. 

Who sliot him dead in the park? 
Keep. He was snaring a pheasant, — breaking the laws I serve. 
Jock. Revenge ! Lust ! Avarice ! These are the laws you serve. 

Bv heaven ! I think they are monarchs of England. 
Ned. {at d f) Hist! {Starts to shut the door., but seeing the 

newcomer is friar Nod., sahites him. Jock advances on Keep) 
Kitty. Peace, Jock, in the house. 
Madam Dean. Li the name of prudence — 
Friar Nod. Li the name of God! {Silence. Ned crosses to 

Kitty at R rear. Business between them.) 
Friar Nod. What brings you two here? 
Keep. {Flourishing xvrit) The laws of England ! 
Fr. No private purpose? 
Keep. Dare you hinder the king's officer? 
Fr. I dare hinder the king, were his errand foul as yours. 
Keep. {Edging toward d f) Cowled foreign beggars! Med^ 

dlers in honest Englishmen's work ! 
Jock. Go ! 

Keep. We'll pitch you out of our island. 
Ned. {At r rear) How the beaten cock crows! 
Kitty. He'll strike friar Nod. , 

Keep. Lisolent beadmongers ! 
Jock. {Suddenly) Wince! {Exit Keep., hastily., d f, and 

passes windoxv) Blusterer ! {Laughs) 
Fr. It is such as he that on their death-beds of sin cry loudest 

for the insolent beadmonger ! 
Mad. God grant he may not cry in vain ! 
Jock. The old homestead ! And the Norman's hatred pursues me 

so far? He would add even this poor plunder to his spoils. 

{Embracing them) Mother! Kitty! 
Mad. My boy ! How changed ! 



Jock. 111? No wonder! Poor mother! Would they drive you 

forth on the roadside to starve? 
Mad. To die. 

Fr. What game is afoot, Jock, that you visit poor Clifton? 
Mad. {Aside) That he should return on just this day ! 
Kitty. {Aside) Their wedding day, too. 
Fr. To plunder the market, maybe? 
Jock. {Recklessly) Tell me, father, on your conscience, is 

Robin Hood damned? 
Fr. Damned? How should I say? Who can measure the limits 

of God's mercy ? 
Jock. Then there's some hope for Jock o' Dean. {Crosses to 

table and picks up fowl) A quarter-staft' in his riglit hand 

and an alms-gift in his left, which will weigh the heavier in 

God's scales, I wonder? Have no fear to lose the cottage, 
. mother. {Fiercely) Those are my acres, — mine and yours, 

— By heaven, they shall not be taken from us! Out of your 

sparking corner, Ned ! ( Goes up l. Ned crosses r to i.) 
Kit. Whither away so early ? 
Jock. To the mending of wrongs. 
Mad. Not after the sheriffs? 
Kit. The garden path. {Points to l 2 k) 

Jock. Twice Keep's shadow has crossed me. The third time — 
Fr. Well ? 
Jock. {At l 3 e) Before to-morrow's sun dawns a tyrant will be 

dragged from the throne of England, and the will of the people 

be sovereign as of old ! 
Kitty. {At c, aside to Ned) So soon. 
Mad. What does he mean? 
Fr. Bubbles all ! Bubbles all ! 
Ned. Nay, the clergy are with us. 
Jock. {Kissing Kitty at i^ 2 e) Then let lesser tyrants look to 

their safety. {Ned tries to kiss Kitty) 
Fr. Tut, tut! 

Jock. Good-bye ! {Exit l 2 e ivith Ned) 
Fr. Wayward, tempestuous soul ! 
Kitty. Don't cry, mother ! It seeins to me that's Hetty lowing 

again. {Ned reappears a/ l 2 e and kisses her) No, it 

wasn't Hetty. 
Fr. How soon would they evict you. Madam Dean ? 
Mad. To-morrow. 
Fr. ( Whispering) Trust in God. You shall be provided for. 

I have in my eye a cottage every whit as tidy as this. 
Mad. I am not one that love to lean on my neighbors, father. 
Fr. Tut, tut ! You shall live there, the church's tenant, and pay 

rent to none but the Lord. 
Mad. Can I forget the old, sweet days, when I stood at yonder 

door, watching my boy as he came through the paths, his labor 

done, — 
Kit. Whistling like a thrush. 
Fr. Well may you grieve, Madame Dean. A good son Jock was 

to you then. 



lo 

Kit. And who made him what he is? 

Mad. To-day she that drove him to his ruin is wedded to her lord^ 

and we on the roadside starving. {She takes out the ribbon) 
Fr. Drove him to his ruin? There was no troth between Winnie 

DarHng and your Jock. 
Kit. As good as a trotlr, and an honest girl would keep it and not 

drive a lad that loved her to shame, — her own blood-cousin, 

too. ( Takes the ribbon and shows it to friar) 
Mad. Peace, Kitty, we have done grieving tor a low-born hussy's 

fickleness. {Enter Merry Afzdreiv d f) 
M. A. {Apart) He's gone ! 
Fr. Fickle is a hard word, Madam Dean. 
Mad, Was she worthier than my son? What lad of the village 

had broader fields than his, all earned by his own honest toil? 
M. A. {Beside the table ^ apart) But he left his juaii} 
Kit. There's not a lord in England a better man than my Jock, on 

foot and with equal arms. 
Fr. Yes, all that— 
Kit. All that, and spurned by a baby doll, in love with her own 

pretty face and the gowns and jewels his Baronship can give 

her to set it ofl. {Friar stares) 
Mad. Be respectful, Kitty, to the holy friar. 
Fr. And would she be the first lass so bewitched at sixteen? 

{Returns ribbon) Nay, nay ; they loved each other from the 

hour they met when first young baron Conrad came to take his 

uncle's name and castle. ( 1 o Madam) Jock was all that, 

Madam Dean, — frolicsome, generous, open-handed ever. If 

he had a fault, it was pride. 
Mad. {Softly) If he has a fault, it is love. 
Fr. You yourself are a gentlewoman. Your son is but half a 

peasant, — and your half-peasant is a mortal Lucifer. {Merry 

Andrew meets hi?n quickly) 
M. A. Would your reverence do me a kindness? 
Fr. Bless me ! 
Mad. Merry Andrew? 
Kit. In the garb of a fool? 
M. A. Yes, — That is, of a jester. (To Madam, maliciously) 

A paper the sheriff' bade me leave. ( To Briar) A suit of 

motley, that Reynard, the jester of the late baron Norman, 

gave me as a token of his friendship, when he left. Your 

reverence knows I have some talent as a jester. 
Mad. The process ! {Kitty tears it to shreds) 
Fr. Yes, they call you Merry Andrew. 
Kit. Merry Andrew ? Villain Andrew ! / never saw a true 

smile on his phiz. 
M. A. Reynard, the old baron's jester, often took notice of me 

before he left the new baron's service and went over to the 

Duke of Chichester. 
Kir. God help the Duke of Chichester ! 
M. A. The new baron has no jester. It stands likely he will want 

one — to caper for his guests, — so ! {He Illustrates) 
Fr. Ha! ha! 



it 

M. A. To tease his lady's waiting-maids — so ! {IllusiraUs.) 

Fr. Ha! ha! ha! 

M. A. And to poke fun at fat abbot Giles ! 

Fr. What! 

M. A. I mean to-to-poke fun at good abbot Giles's d-d-detractois ! 

Kit. How long since you've stuttered, I'ld like to know? 

M. A. It's a warm berth, that of jester, and your reverence 
knows I am not rich. Heaven's holy will be done ! ( Crosses 
himself) Many a purse and costly gewgaw, and dagger all 
studded with stones, Reynard has showed me, tliat he got from 
lords and ladies when he pleased them. He was served by 
pages, came and went as he liked, and none dared say boo to 
him in all the castle for fear of the old black baron. 

Fr. And so you think you could order about the pages of the 
castle, — youths of gentle birth .^ 

Kit* And he the son of a swineherd. 

M. A. The new baron thinks highly of your reverence. 

Fr. Tut, tut ! He barely knows me. 

M. A. Oh, your reverence ! 'Tis common rejDort. 

Fr. Tut, tut ! 

M. A. And should your reverence recommend my name to him 
strongly, — and then should my lady Winifred whisper it in his 
ear, — and I'll give them a foretaste of my drolleries on the 
green this afternoon, — why, if all prospers, I may fill Reynard's 
place at the castle so. 

Fr. ( Sternly) You know why Reynard was dismissed, I suppose. 

M. A. Was he dismissed, your reverence ? 

Fr. For some scurvy trick on the reverend abbot. 

M. A. Oh! 

Kit. {Mocking) Oh! 

Fr. Would you use your privileges there to make light of holy 
men and holy things .-* 

M. A. Me, your reverence.'' Me.'' Oh, if you knew how faith- 
fully I keep the feasts of the church. 

Fr. Indeed, I never remarked it. 

M. A. On Saint Andrew's day 
I recite long rituals 
And abstain from vic-tu-als. 
And every morn when I rise, for a starter, 
I cross myself twice and then patter a Pater. 

Kit. {Aside) You thieving hypocrite, ribald rogue ! 

M. A. And 'tis no sin to be ambitious, your reverence. 

Mad. Calls he that ambition ! 

Fr. Well, well, you have a merry face now that I look at you 
closely. I'll speak to the Baron for you. 

M. A. A hundred thousand thanks, and your blessing, good 
father. {Kneels) 

Fr. Bless you. 

Kit. {Aside) You rogue ! 

Fr. You'ld make a good fool, I verily believe, ha ! ha ! 

M. A. Ha ! ha ! ha ! Your reverence is keen at a jest. 

Fr. Away with you now. I'll speak to him. 



12 



Kit. Don't cry, mother. " They 5>^fl;// not be taken," said Jock, 

and he has never broken his word to us yet. 
Mad. Ay, Jock keeps his word. 

Kit. Never fear. He knows a way, then. {^Apart) But I wish 
I knew what the game is. {Roundelay by girls at a distance^ 
A gay betrothal, merry bridal. 
Laughing bride and ladies. 
Up came Tom, the rover idle, 
" Tell me who the maid is?" 
Tell me who the maid is. 
Tell me who the maid is, 
Up came Tom, the rover idle, 
" Tell me who the maid is } " 
Fr. ' Tis the cottage m the west meadows that I purchased with 

last year's tithes. 
M. A. {At L rear^ If I get scent of Jock o' Dean, I am the 

Baron's jester ! 
Fr. Hey .? Yes, yes, the Baron's jester. Away with you ! I'll 

speak to him. ( Villagers in holiday garb pass d f, r /<? l) 
Villagers. Look at Merry Andrew, dressed in motley ! {M. A. 
tutnbles out jingling his bells. A guffaw. Girls pass R to 
L, singing roundelay) 

Sweet Winnie Darling she was christened. 
To her cottage shady 
Came a lord with a ring that glistened, 
Now she is my lady. 
Now she is my lady ; 
Now she is my lady. 

Sweet Winnie Darling she was christened. 
Now she is my lady. {Kitty slams door and shuts 
window) 
Fr. There you shall house in comfort till Kitty and Ned Baker are 

cried in church some fine Sunday. 
Kit. Ned Baker.'' La, Friar Nod ! I'm only trying the lad. 
Fr. Tut, tut ! I will make all ready and send further word by Ned 

to-night. ( Crosses /o L 2 e) 
Mad. God rest you, father. Kitty, run and lift the latch. {A-part) 

A new nest for the old robin. Will they fit.'' Will they fit.^ 
Fr. {At L 2 e) Bless you, children. {A knock at D f) 
Mad. What's that.'' — The sheriff' again! I know his stealthy 

knock. {Kfzock repeated) 
Fr. Who's there.'' {Knock repeated) 

Kit. Coming! — Sit quiet, mother. — Coming! {Snatches a knife 

from cupboard and tucks it in girdle ; then cautiously opens 

door in Jlat. Madam Dean has risen to an attitude of 

suspe7tse) 

Kit. Why it's only blind Robin. {Friar., at 1.2 ^, laughs. Blind 

Robin standing in S7inlight) 
Mad. {Sinking back., feebly) At last ! — The ribbon. 



13 

SCENE II. 

The Witches' Den. Interior of a cavern. Set piece to be dropped from 
loft at second grooves. Covered entrance at c Weak light from entrance 
at R. Serfs and rebels discovered, with Tom Hurvej. A whistle is heard 
outside. 



Tom. Hark ! ( Whistle repeated. Tom answers. Enter c d f 

Jock a' Dean., Ned Baker and Allan Forster. Cheers.^ 
Tom. Welcome back to Clilton, Jock o' Dean ! 
Jock. Tom Harvey ! ( Clasps hands of rebels) 
Tom. I barely knew you, boy. 
Jock. (^Laughing) Am I changed.'' 

What cheer lads, what cheer.' 
Tom. All's thriving, Jock. 

The Wilton men are mustering thick as bees. 
Jock. Good, stalwart yeomen there. I'ld be myself 
The herald to warn them of our game tonight, 
But here's a practised leader, Allan Forster, 
A soldier browned in thirty years of service. 
He's riding through the loyal Kentish towns 
With greetings from W^at Tyler. 
Rebels. Read the greetings ! The greetings from Wat Tyler ! 
FoRST. (^Reading) "To the men of Kent: The army of the 
people has taken London." ( Cheers) Not so loud, I pray you. 
'■'To-day the king holds parley with me at Smithfield, and ere 
the sun downs tonight, or Wat Tyler will be slain or the three- 
groat tax will be repealed." ( Cheers) 
Jock. The grossest charge that ever opulence laid on misery. 
FoRST. "Muster vmder your chosen leaders. Forge pikes of vour 
oloughshares, and bullets of your chains. No bloodshed till 
the word be given ; but march to meet me in London with all 
speed. Yours in the good cause. Wat Tyler." {The letter 
is passed a?nong rebels. Unable to read., they scrutinize 
it awkwardly) 
FoRST. {Aside) How many may we count on, captain, here.? 
Jock. Clifton for fifty, Down and Dale a hundred, 

Wilton, — 
Ned. Four score. 
Jock. Two hundred in the round. 
FoRST. Well done for Kent ! 
Jock. Ay, Sussex, Kent and Surrey 

Ne'er lagged in a good cause yet. 
FoRST. You have the marrow. 
Tom. No bloodshed.? There'll be letting of blood to-night 

Unless we strangle them with thongs. 
Ned. {To Forster) Art sure 

'Tis wise to burn the castle } 
FoRST. Am I sure 

' Tis wise to smoke a wolves' den t 
Ned. {Holding letter) Honest Wat 

Has writ "no bloodshed." 



H 

Tom. Ay, their wedding day. 

I say march on to London. The boy-king 
Will hear his people and set right the tax. 
The Baron's honest. By the mass, he is ; 
Or he'Id not wed the girl, but drag her — 

Jock, {hnpetuously') Honest! 

Oh, could you feel the bitterness of the wrong 
I bore from him, the burning blood would leap 
Like wildfire through your veins. Revenge ! Your cry 
Would jar the holy stillness of the forest. 
{Forster cautions hi?n. He proceeds i7iore lightly) 
But no, what need to speak of private wrongs.^ 
Your king needs gold, — to buy him cloths and banners, 
That he may send his idle lords to France, 
There to pursue their pastime of the war 
With proper pomp and pageantry. He wriu'^s 
Three groats from every man from end to end 
Of England, — from luxurious lord alike 
And fiimished boor. What's three groats to your Baron.'' 

Tom. a blade of the grass that bursts his ample garners. 

Jock. From you .^ 

Ned. a whole years' harvest. 

Jock. Will you bear it? 

No, by the fire that flashes in your eyes. 
Now you are up and girded, strike ! Shake off 
This cursed drug of custom, which casts sleep 
O'er all the world, and sanctifies foul hell 
Because it is. Tom Harvey, you, of all, — 
And Peter Dunton, you, — I did not think 
To find you two so tender for the castle. 
The old black baron dragged your daughters there. 
Where's Nell.? Where's Kate .? 

Tom. The devil grind his soul \ 

Rebels. Amen! 

FoRST. {Laughitig) You hate devoutly. 

Tom. (^Bitterly) Twenty years 

Black Basil Norman kept his station yonder. 
Now with his hunters and his hounds rough-shod 
Rode down the growing corn ; now marched us serfs, 
Yoked two and two like oxen, through his halls 
To make curled roysters merry. And if a churl 
Dared call on justice for his trampled crops. 
His sullied daughters, there's a irap that opens 
On the deep tarn beneath yoa castle's dungeons. 

FoRST. ' Tis so in all old England. 

Ned. {To Totn^ Think you then 

His nephew will be gentler.? 

Tom. (^Reflecting) Aye, what does 

The foreign vulture in our English skies.? 

Jock. Then strike him down ! 

Long years, you've spanielled, blind. 
Your eyes unsealed, you see the bonds that twine you. 



15 

Then rend them with the brawn you got by toil. 

On to their cursed nest, and all the way 

Shout freedom ! freedom ! Why, the very hills 

Will leap for gladness, and the sodden fields 

Breed flowers before your path, to hear that word, 

That good forefathers' English word of freedom ! 
Rebels. Hear, hear! 

Enough of promises ! Let's on ! 
Ned. Let's on ! One Norman less in Saxon land, — 
Jock. One despot more in hell ! 
FoRST. ( Taking letter^ Let parsons preach 

''No bloodshed " I'm a soldier. Blows will tell. 
Tom. Ay, cower s their cry, and kiss the lash, and say 

'• I thank you," when the blood spurts from your wounds. 

That was the martyrs' way. Do that, who knows. 

We'll sanctify and multiply your bones, — 
FoRST. Soft, comrade ! 
Ned. Soft, Tom ! 
FoRST. I'm no scholar, friends, 

But I let holy church's teachings be. 
Tom. Save iti the minor article of — bloodshed. 
FoRST. Good never came to them — Look here, that blade, 

Hacked to the hilt with fifty battles' bruises. 

It's served me well, — and why? I had it dipped 

At Donna Mary's shrine in Tuscany. 

Better believe, believe. 
Ned. Of course, believe. 
Jock. No Lollards here. 
Tom. But not all tales with which 

They herd us, trembling, to death's shambles. 
FoRST. Oh, 

Stick to the faith, all's well. As for the rest, 

I've not confessed, myself, these — thirty years. {Grim 

laughter) 
■ A plain man's slips will be forgiven, I trow. 
Jock. Tell them how fares the cause. 
FoRST. London is ours. 

The north is all in arms, the west on fire. 

Through every southern village, as I passed 

I heard the clank of steel. And I can say. 

From Tyler's own true lips, the Kentish smith. 

He had not looked for coolness here in Clifton. 
*Ned. Who was it spoke of wavering.' 'Twas but one 

Or two at most. 
Jock. Who's ready to go on.' 
Rebels. I — I — I — I. 
Jock. Ah,* there's my gallant band. 

First, I and Forster to the castle post. 
FoRST. We've bribed a varlet there to filch the keys. 
Jock. These I consign to Forster, and to him 

The Wiltons' rousing and the leadership 

In to-night's work. His plan, not mine ; all his 

The glory if we win. 



i6 

FoRST. How can we lose 

With fifty score all told? 
Jock. Meanwhile I stalk 

The cavalcade, and with my merry men 

On their own horses from the Wedding Feast 

Steal back the stolen bride. {Asiofiiskfueiit) 

You stare. Egad, 

So will the Norman and his courtier crew, 

To see the tidbit ravished from his lips. 

Three times I'll sound my bugle-call among them. 

Mark how their wheezy drone of pipes and fiddles 

Will shrink to silence at its clarion peal. {Sounds a bold 

bugle call) 
Ned. I had as lief forego my chance of heaven 

As such a noonday lark. 
Jock. Winifred lodged 

At Wyndham priory, four leagues away, 

Secure from harm, with abbess Genevieve, 

I'll join you here at curfew in the Den. 

With Forster at the head of fifty score — 
Ned. And keys to unlock portcullis, gate, and postern — 
FoKST. And hell-fire brewed from Roger Bacon's brand — 
Tom. We'll smoke the wolves' den bravely. 
Jock. {At c) Curfew hour 

Here in the Den, full-armed. Some few, — you, Ned, 

And others, — linger on the green to watch. 
Ned, Tom, follow me by the Daylight Hole. The rest 

Out by the river exit, and disperse 

Straight to your homes. 
Tom. Homes.? Call them kennels rather. 
Ned. Well, homes to us. At curfew, be on hand. 
Jock. The watchword } 
FoRST. {At c) Burn the castle. 

All. Burn the castle ! {Exeunt rebels L, Ned a7td Tom r, 
Jock and Forster c d f) 



SCENE m. 

Courtyard at Norman Castle. 



Castle at L, with practicable window, and gate at L i e. Small chapel at 
R, with practicable door and steps. Belfry at R I e. Entrance behind chapel 
at R 3 E. Low wall at rear, with open wicket, and sky-view beyond. Stone' 
bench at l. Rock at c rear. Bernardo discovered detaining Raiinond, who 
is, running with two empty candle-sticks from chapel door to gate at L. 
Charles pompously struts in the back-ground. 



Bern. Now, Raimond ! 

Raim. Let me go, Bernardo. 

Bern. Now, my little lady's lap-dog, what will you do.'' 

Raim. Let me go for the candles, I tell you. {Stamps foot) 



17 

Chas. Abbot Giles! { E titer fj-orn gate at L, a portly abbots 
preceded by acolytes. All salute. They pass into chapel. 
Raiinond slips by Bernardo., and exit through gate lie) 

Bern. I say, Charles, prayer must be a powerful antidote to leanness. 

Chas. {Himself stout) You are merry this morning. 

Bern. Pleasant dreams all night of the feast on the green. You 
know we are to ride down this afternoon — 

Chas. Yes, I know, after the wedding. 

Bern. And give a feast to the Clifton villagers, your precious 
flock ; and my lady is to wear her village dress again and dance 
once more with the lasses. 

Chas. By the Lord, I'll ask leave of the sheriff to join you. 

Bern. Ask leave.'' Take leave, man ! Are you not beadle.? 

Chas. {Importantly) Aye. 

Bern. Bumbailiff.'' 

Chas. Aye. 

Bern. A man of substance in the neighborhood? Substance, 
Charles. Ha ! ha ! 

Chas.. Aye ; but this eviction of the Deans. 

Bern. Eviction ! Eviction ! Nothing but evictions ! Keep's do- 
ing, and my lord gets the blame of it all. A worm-eaten 
walnut for Keep and his hangdogs ! I would they were housed 
elsewhere. I'faith they will be soon, if the baron goes on 
ridding us of his uncle's placemen. First, Reynard, then 
Bertram, the seneschal. Marvin Keep's turn next, I fancy. 

Chas. Then ho, for the baron's ale ! 

Bern. And a romp with the village girls ! 

Hub. {Entering lie) And a bout with the village wrestlers ! 

Bern. Aha, Hubert ! 

Raim. {Frotn castle -vindoxv) Guards, guards! 

Bern. Hello, what's the news.? 

Raim. The cook has burned lier fingers. 

Hub. Very sad I 

Raim. And there's something good in the pantry for her particular 
friend, Bernardo, and the worthy beadle, Charles. 

Chas. and Bern. Me.? 

Raim. Both. {Disappears) 

Bern. Shall we go.? 

Chas. I breakfasted very lightly this morning. 

Bern. The abbot has only just come. It -will take an hour to 
marry them. 

Chas. I'm with you. {Exeunt lie. Choir sings hym.n from 
chapel. Hubert at r front., leaning on lance. Enter lie 
Marvin Keep., and passes tip at L, across to R, spying around., 
keys jatigling at his girdle) 

Keep. Guard Hubert, have you found my keys about.? 

Hub. Not I. 

Keep. The old rusty bunch, I mean, that hung in the black 
baron's chamber. 

Hub. Neither that nor any other. {Apart) He snarls as if he 
thought I had stolen his janglers. {Re-enter Raimond L i e, 
carefully carrying lighted candles in the candlesticks) 



i8 



Raim. Tit for tat ! 

Hub. {Smiling) Well? 

Raim. (^Turning co7npletely '' round) "Little lady's lap-dog!" 
1 tell vou tliese nicknames stick to a man. 

Keep. (At c rear^ sneering) Man ! {Exit R 3 e) 

Raim. You crabbed old crow ! 

Hun. {Laughing) Take care. Nicknames stick, you said. 
{Hymn from chapel) 

Raim. There! I knew I'ld be late; but they wont plague me 
again in a hurry. Called my sword a darning-needle, too, the 
other day. {Hxit^ grumblings through chapel door) 

Chas. and Bern. {Vl'ithift) Ho, there ! Ho, Hubert ! Unbolt 
the door .f" Unbolt-tlie-arsenal-door ! Hubert! Hubert! Ho, 
there, Hu — bert ! {Meanwhile enter Blifid Robin rue and 
comes down front through gate in wall. He carries a 
wallet at ofie side and gropes zvith a staff. Hubert crosses 
to L front) 

Rob. I give you good morrow, guard Hubert. 

Hub. {Apart) Strange how he knows us. {Aloud) Good 
morrow is watchword enough to-day. Blind Robin. Have you 
come up for an alms this morinng.^ 

Rob. With a message, guard Hubert. 

Hub. For whom } 

Rob. For Winnie Darling. 

Hub. Rest here, then, and you shall see her soon, — but no longer 
as Winnie Darling. {Robi7t to bench at L. Hubert slips a 
coifi in his wallet) 

Hub. {Apart) Poor lad ! {Enter L u e Merry Andrew., 
comes doxvn L, stealthily., picks Robin's xvallet of the coin., 
and exit R 3 e. 'I he organ meainvhile plays and Hubert., 
leaning on spear., at K front., whistles softly the air of the 
hymn) 

Rob. Are not tiic people happy, Hubert? 

Huh. Happy? \Vhat makes you ask, my lad? 

Row. Because they say 

Whenever I pass, with whisper low, " Poor Robin." 
Tiiey call me poor, yet I am very happy. 

How happy must they be who call me poor. {Re-enter 
Charles and Bernardo i. i E, crestfallen and blackened) 

Hub. I cannot speak for rogues and cozeners. 

With honest folk, I think, the world wags well. 

Bern Well? 

Chas. 111! 

Hub. With honest folk I said. What has befollen ? 

Bern. I have. 

Chas. Twenty feet from the arsenal window. 

Bern. He dragged us with him into the refectory, " Here's 
Blanche." said the rogue with a laugh, and slipped out like 
an eel and bolted the door. Then we waited. Then we 
shouted. Didn't vou iiear us? 

Hub. I? 



19 

Bern. No answer. " This will never do," said Charles. " We 
must climb up into the arsenal," said I. So up we went 
through the chimney. 

Chas. Hence this soot. 

Bern. But the rogue had been there before us. Bolted in again. 
"• We must hang from the window," said I. So I dropped. 

CiiAS. And I dropped. 

Bern. And here we are. 

Hub. Good ! 

Chas. and Bern. {Limping) Good! {Re-enter Merry An- 
drew R 2 e) 

Hub. Merry weather's no test of a temper. 

Bern. Right, camerado. A smile heart-deep, that wont rub oft', 
for me ! I remember when Reynard was jester here in the old 
black baron's time — 

M. A. Oh, the rafters rang with wassail cheer 

And puling was a crime. 

Raim. {Appearing suddenly on chapel steps at r) Ring, 
guards, ring! My lord has married my lady. {Hubert and 
Bernardo spring to belfry-rope at R ist E ; organ-music and 
bells) 

Raim. Let all the valley hear the good tidings. Ring! Ring! 
Ring! Ring! {Disappears. Pause of expectation. En- 
ter L u E Jock o' Deati and Forster., who come down front) 

FoRST. Is this an alarum against us or — } 

Jock. ( With pretended indifference) The wedding bells. 
{Forster whistles the rebel signal toward castle. Chapel 
doors S7iddenly flung open) 

FoRST. Ware! Ware! {Enter girls strewing fowers.^ Baron 
and Winifred., Sir Frank Bomaifies., k flights., ladies., etc., 
in bridal procession. Jock and Forster behind rock) 

FoRST. Your grijD is like a wild-cat's claw. 

Jock. Your pardon. 

Rob. {Dozing) Someone is coming. Alms, my lord and ladies. 

Bar. Who's this bright curly-head.? 

Rob. Blind Robin, sir. 

Just wandering through Clifton by the Dale. 

Bar. Blind.'' But who finds the way for you, my lad? 

Rob. Who finds the way, sir.? 

Win. Robin knows the way. 

Hub. He cometh to the castle oft, my lord. ' 

Bar. Know you the boy, my love.? 

Win. These many years. 

Rob. 'Tis Lady Winnie, by the voice, God bless her! 
God's mother make the Baron love her true ! 

Win. God's mother make me merit his true love ! ( They smile. 
Robin searches in his bosom) 

Bar. Wouldst come to live with us here in the castle.? 

Rob. Nay, master, Wilton village is my home. 

Bar. And play with Raimond, my pert page from France.? 
I wager in all the valley's villages 



20 

There's not a hearth so happy as my castle. 

And here's a cross of gold you'll wear from me. — (Aside) 

A bauble, love, 1 won at chess from Frank. 
Sir Fr. Yes, swept my knights and castles with his bishop. 
M. A. (Officiously) Proving the church is mightier than the 
state. (Sir Frank eyes him. Winifred pi7is cross on JRobin) 
Jock. (Behind rock) How like a violet of the vale she blooms 

'Mid all those hot-house flowers of indolence ! 
FoRST. There's Frank Romaines. I served with him in Flanders. 
.Win. The bright cross. See, it sparkles o'er with jewels. 
Rob. Oh, does it sparkle? 
Bar. Like fair ladies' eyes. 

We'll have the little blind boy for your page, love. 
Sir Fr. Wants but the quiver to be cupid's double. 
Rob. Ah, there it is. A parcel for my lady. 
Win. For me.? Pi"iiyi who's the sender.-^ 
Rob. Madam Dean. 
Jock. What's this? 

Win. (Agitated) The favor that I worked for Jock. 
Bar. It is no tidings of ill hap, beloved. 

That meet us on the threshold ? 
Win. Nay. 
Bar. You blanch. 

This is the lily's color, and I thought 

The flower I kissed before God's altar-rail 

A rose. 
Win. Sad memory of my maitlenhood 

Checks in my cheek the surging. 
Bar. Only that? 
Win. No more. 
Bar. Ah, sweetheart, heaven forbid your foot 

Should stumble on an evil omen now. 
Win. a present from the village — from my kinswomen. 
Bar. (Smiling) What, has their wrath relented, then, so far? 

(Exit procession lie. Busitiess for ]\Ierry Andre-v) 
Bern. Who is this? 

Hub. Only that old hanger-on of Reynard's. 

Bern. What, he that makes ballads, like Piers the Plowman? 
(Business) A scurrilous lampoon, you rogue ! Ha ! ha ! ha ! 
(Re-enter acolytes and abbots shoving Rai?nond before him. 
Guard's mock Raimond. Exeunt Charles., abbot and 
acolytes lie) 
M. A. (Mocking abbot) Benedicite, ^>^<?5//y father ! 
Bern. Ghostly? Abbot Giles ghostly ? 
Hub. { To Robin) Come, lad, you're to live in the castle now. 

Lock arms with this saucy Raimond. 
Bern. Well chastised for his sauciness, I observe. 
Raim. (Mocking) So /dropped — and /dropped. 
Hub. He's a living charm for the prevention of melancholy. 
Bern. Melancholy? WHiat's that? 
M. A. Own brother to dulness, and the two my foes. 
Hub. (To Robin) He'll have you smiling in no time. 



21 

Raim. That I will, Robin. Isn't your name Robin? {Calls) 

Charles ! Charles ! 
Chas. {Re-appearing -l i e) Well? 

Raim. {Mocking-) 111! {Exit Charles in dudgeon) He's a 
recjular old turkey-gobbler. But come with me and I'll show 
vou all over the castle. First we'll visit, — let me see, I thinlv 
we'ld better begin with {Peeping into Robin's xvallet) h'm ! 
— the pantry. {Robin Smiles. Exeunt lie Robin and 
Rairnond, then Hjibert., closing gate on Merry Andrew zuho 
tries to enter. Merry Andrezv up stage at L. Jock a?id 
Forster down at R. Merry Andrew watches them and 
crosses to R. Exit R 3 e) 
[ocK. I could not see her face. 
FoRST- ' Tvvas Norman, then, 

Came first? 
[ocK. {Scornfully) That gallant lance, the cream and flower 

■ Of knighthood. 
FoRST. So they sound his praise? 
Jock. {Fiercely) They 1 — flatter. ( With pathos) 

Could you have known me ere he came among us, 
Love-blest and happy-hearted. All my days 
Flowed in a smooth and running rh3'thm of peace. 
You see me what I am. That gentle bride, — 
She loved me once. He wheedled her away. 
I had no lisping French to woo her with, 
No studied phrases from the troubadours. 
No castle and no name, "my lady," to tempt her — 
FoRST. You say the damsel loved — 
Jock. Last hallowe'en 

He brought her here from Clifton to be schooled 
To fit her for his bride, — my flower, my pearl. 
High rose the revelry, gay wliirled the dance. 
Without, my heart was breaking in the cold. 
You smile at that. Fool ! Have you never loved? 
FoRST. Nay, you are wrong, by — 
Jock. Jesu, how I snfTered ! 

Without yon gate I stood, — snow girdle-deep, 
Cold that would freeze the marrow of the stoat, 
And all my brain on fire, — when Marvin Keep, 
The castle warden, on his midnight rounds. 
Issuing thence, espied me in the dark, 
And with an oath and "Lurk'st thou, varlet, here?" 
He raised his whip and lashed me like a dog. 
Then all the pent up rebel in my soul 
Mastered. This right hand felled him in his blood. 
I fled. The hireling judge proclaimed it felony, 
And gladly Conrad Norman signed my sentence. 
He crossed me in my love ; he made me outhiw. 
Today he holds his Wedding Feast. 
FoRST. Soho ! 

And you at noon — ? 
Jock. That finished, on to London ! 



22 

FoKsr. Well, blows will tell. It makes a soldier itch, 
This parleying and truce-patching up in London. 
Jock. She's mine. No lord shall steal her. 
FoKST. By my faith. 

When I was last in England, 'twas with pikes. 
Not prayers, we won our battles. 
{Jock distracted at i. fronts Forster at c) 
FoRST. Solid rock. 

I see no slit or loop in all its armor. 
With fifty archers and a breath of warning 
rid hold it in the teeth of half an army. 
The saints forbid our varlet should prove faithless. 
( Whistle from within. Forster answers) 
Jock. {Over path of Jlowers) 

Their path all strewn with smiling roses — Mine ! 
{A massive bunch of keys is thrown over gate at i. i E. Jock 
catches the?n. Re-enter Marvin Keep R 3 ¥.., followed shortly 
by Merry Andrew., pointing. Merry Andrew pulls belfry 
rope at K I E. Alarm. Keep from behind attempts to stab 
Jock. Forster warns him. Jock tosses keys to Forster. 
Exit Forster rue) 
Jock. Coward ! Spy ! Seducer ! That for myself ! 

Thnt for tiie cause ! That for the blush of shame 
You reddened on the cheek of Kitty Dean ! 
{Stabs hirn thrice. Gay music from the castle. Jock shakes 
the bloody dagger) 
Jock. Oh, revel ! Ill you built your marriage joy, 
On the foundation of a broken heart, 
Winifred Norman ! 
{Exit RUE, leaping wall. Guards and Charles rush otit 
L I e) 
M. A. {At K front., pointing) Jock o' Dean! {Hubert and 

Bernardo up stage. Charles supports Keep) 
Keep. A priest! A priest! {Bernardo at rear aitns his bow 
quickly to R, dowmvard., a?td shoots. Arrow txvangs. 
Curtaift. Gay music from castle continues) 



ACT II 



Clifton Green — The Wedding Feast. 

An arch of welcome at c rear, and two arches flunking it diagonally at 
RUE and L u K. Green carpet. Trees. A double throne of rustic pattern 
on a platforn-j at R. Table and chairs at r front. Stage filled with villagers. 
Enter Raimond L u E, coming down c, followed bj two servitors, wheeling a 
monstrous hogshead. 



Raim. Who'll show me the way to Clifton Green.'' {^Villagers 
pointy 

Marion. You come from the castle, I dare say.? 

Raim. I come from Baron Norman with a tun of ale for his liege- 
men of the village. ( Cheers. Hogshead placed at i. front) 

M. A. {Ii titer ing ivith a lout at R v e) Here we are ! 

Villagers. {Turm'f/g) Who, the Baron.? 

M. A. No, me and Billy Pumpkin. (Comes down c) Droll! 
Droll ! Droll ! " If I catch Merry Andrew," Charles, the 
beadle, was saying, " that unshriven rogue," — so he was 
pleased to call me, — "at any of his didoes to-day, I'll have 
him soused in the mill-pond and whipped a-scamper out of the 
parish." Droll ! Droll ! I say. A Baron that wed's a yeo- 
man's daughter, and a beadle that would stop the good loose 
prattle of a (Slapping lout) Hail-Jolly-Johnnie like me. 

Raim. This must be the fool of the family. What's your name.? 

M. A. Dickon. 

Raim. Then go to the dickens. Tra, la, la! (Goes up stage 
and exit l u e) 

Voices. (Outside) Here they come! (Villagers to arch at 
L u e) The Baron ! My lady ! Huzza I (Music of village 
minstrels) 

Fr. (Outside) Your squires may tie the horses at the bushes. 
(Enter L u E villagers., cheering., then under arch at c rear., 
village minstrels^ preceding the Baron., Winifred^ wich rich 
cloak over village dress., two haughty bridesmaids., •Sir 
Frank jRomaines., Friar Nod., Hubert., Bernardo., I\obin 
and Raimond., dressed alike as page^^ knights ajid Charles) 

Fr. This way, my lord and lady to the thiones 

Where you shall overlook our simple pastiines. 
(Baron and Winifred and bridesmaids to thrones at R., Sir 
Frank and Robin on platfonri steps, knights behind, Hubert 
and Bernardo to table at R frotzt. Friar. Charles and 
Raimond variously occupied among villagers) 

Fr. Ready for the march, children ! ( Villagers line up two deep 
at L, facing thrones. Crowding., etc. Merry Aizdrew 
comes ever to guards at R front) 

Fr. Now! (Villagers wheel twos right, cross stage at rear 
L to n, and cotne dow?t by thrones. Minstrels, pretty 
couples., bumpkins. Baron and Winifred acknowledge 



24 

curtsies. Meawwhile Merry Andrew tips o^ Charles'' s 
hat at R front') 
Bern. Put on your beavei-, Charles, or the June-flies will be 

making for that tonsure of yours. 
Chas. Ill comes to them that jibe at a natural misfortune ! 
M. A. It's natural for beadles to be bald. 

Chas. {Fiercely) Why is it natural for beadles to be bald .^ 
M. A. liecause they are born that way. 
Bern. Ha! ha! ha! This is an incorrigible dry jester. 
M. A. Let me rhyme you the villagers' mottoes off- hand. 
Hub. Have they mottoes, too.'' {He displays Barons banner 

ivith mot to ^ " Vince Ala gnatziinitatc") 
Bern. I thought only dukes and tavern-keepers indulged in such 

luxuries. 
M. A. The butcher's is " Carve;" the soapmaker's " Try;" 
The notary public's "• Be su'e and be sharp ;" 
The Doctor of m.edicine's '• Diet or die ;" 
The beadle's "■ I come to carp." 
Bern. Ha ! ha ! ha ! Charles ! He's a rhymester, the rogue. 
Chas. {Offended) Cheap! 
Bern. Well jingled ! Another! 

Raim. {At j^) I'll do at a pinch, won't I Marion .^ {Pinches her 
and parades with her in the procession. A chatterbox comes 
by iti procession) 
M. A. I'm Miss Margery Pye, 

And I stoutly deny 

That the friar, knowing what I most sin at, 
The last time I confessed 
Said " For penance, go rest 

Your long tongue the whole tenth of a minute." 
Bern. Ha ! ha ! Pve h.eard of Mag Pye. {A widow) 
M. A. Here's Mistress Dorothy Soulful, 

With a keen sense of the doleful. 
Shrove Tuesday her Timothy lost his life. 
Still she wipes the tears from each trembling lid, oh ! 
For seventeen years an indifferent wife, 
And now a devoted widow. 
Bern. Ha ! ha ! Here's to faithful Dolly ! Heaven send her a 
better than Timothy! She ogled me, the witch; she ogled 
me, Hubert. {Etc. ^ ad libitum. JBnd of procession) 
M. A. {Loudly) My, this will make the baron too proud, to 
have all the aristocracy out to meet him. {Baron turns his 
head. Merry Andrexv.. seeing his chance.^ steals fddle at r 
front., the fninstrels being" interested in the hogshead^ and 
moves to c) My lord, do you love music.'' 
Fr. What does the rogue mean .^ 

M. A. I would sing you a pretty witty ditty that I made. 
Bar. On what subject.^ 

M. A. I am Edgar L'Estrange, the troubadour, and I sing of 
nothing but love. {Strufnming) 
Love's a little goblin. 
Marriage is a bridge. 



25 

Arm and arm with lads and lasses 
To the river's brink he passes, 
Then with ah's and with alases, 
Sighs the cunning, fickle midge, 
"Nay, I may not cross a bridge : 
Nay, I may not cross a bridge." 
Sir Fr. A pretty blessing he offers. 
Mar. (7t> Raimond^ l) Why, he's mocking the Baron. 

( Charles interferes. Business for Merry Andrezu) 
Bar. Who is the minstrel that made such untuneful music? 
Win. That was Merry Andrew. 
Fr. a famous jester of the village, my lord. 
Sir Fr. Why does he edge near us constantly as if he were 

addressing his fooleries to the Baron .^ 
Fr. It is his strange ambition, Sir Knight, to succeed the jester of 
my lord's late uncle, one Reynard by name. It was he taught 
Andrew many of his tricks, — especially this pestilent habit of 
rhyming ; and from him he borrowed that suit of motley 
he wears. 
Sir Fr. It has seen good service, by the patches. 
M. A. (At l) The friar has kept his promise. They are talking 
about me. Good ! Good ! Keep it up, Andrew, keep it up ! 
(Business. Villagers guff aiv) 
Bar. (Watching him) So.? (Merry Andrew out at i. z 'k) 
You had a fancy, love, to dance again 
Your girlhood dances .f" 
Win. Would it become me, think you.? 
Fr. Gracious deeds 

Become even queens, my lady. 
Bar. Go, my love, 

We'll watch you from the thrones. ( Winifred throws back 
cloak., revealing village costume. Raitnond and Baron 
assist her to desceitd. Girls shyly kiss her hand ) 
Sir Fr. ( Tawning) • A pest on love ! 

Conrad, your eyes see nothing but your wife. 
Bar. What is it, Frank.? 

Sir Fr. As we're not happy bridegrooms. 

We're like to die of gaping in the sun 
At these tame dances. There's a roomy field 
Beyond the bushes where the sweets are spread. 
Across the road ; and by your leave we'll wrestle, 
And test the .village archers there a bit. 
Bar. With all mv heart. I should have thought of it. (Sir 
Frank co77ies down to Hubert and Berfzardo, ivho have been 
well supplied from the hogshead by Raimond. Charles 
occasionally j'oitzs theni) 
Mar. (At c) And were you truly married, Winifred.' 
Win. As truly as abbot Giles could marry us. 
Mar. And in the chapel with the candles lighted, 

All golden, and the solemn organ playing.? 
Win. Yes, Marion. 
Mar. Ah, might I be married so ! 



26 

Sir Fr. {Loudly) A stout yew-bow to him that sends a shaft 

Beyond my squire, Bernardo. 
Bar. And this purse 

To him that bests stout Hubert with the staff. 
Youths. Now here'U be sport. 
Mar. Come, Harold, have a try. 
Knights. Let's see the games. 
Hub. Lean striplings, every one. 

Bar. Tug for the fame of Clifton now, my liegemen. {Exeunt 
L u E Sir Franks Hubert^ knights and youths. Raimond 
Jlirts ivitli Marion. Bei-nardo and Charles remain at table., 
drinking., — Charles more and more pompous., Bernardo 
more and fnore jovial. Winifred and girls make ready to 
dance. Re-enter merry Andrciv L 3 E aiid comes dozvn to 
C front) 
M. A. {Apart) I'll practice on the page. 
Raim. {Apart) Oh, you will? 
M. A. Hello, here's Hop-o'-my-Thumb, the king of the midgets, 

making love to Marion. 
Bern, {fealotis) To Marion .? Oh, no ! 

M. A. I'wo feet high and a century old in his doublet and hose. 
Mar. Twelve years and a half you mean. 
M. A. Just lialf as old as his partner, then. 
Mar. The Idea ! 

M. A. And she's just half as old as the beadle. 
Bern. Ha! ha! ha! fifty, camerado ! 
Chas. Psh ! 

M. A. Ard Charles is just half as old as the friar. 
Bern. {Rapping glass) Good! Jolly! Jolly! 
Chas. More ale ! 
M. A. And so on up to Mathusalem. ( To Raimond) Can you 

tell a duck from a goose.? 
Raim. Yes, — you're not a duck. 
Bern. Good for the midget. 

Win. What shall tlie first dance be, the ring-dance.? Come. 
Choose partners. Lay our bonnets on the grass. ( Winifred 
and girls dance a country dance) 
Bar. How quaint and modest are these village dances ! 
Bern. Did you see how jolly Andrew trounced the midget.? Ha ! 

ha! ha! 
Chas. More ale ! 

Bar. Is it my eye is rosy-steeped in love. 

Or are mv folk so happy as they seem. 
This festal day .? What mean these rude alarms. 
Uprisings, marches, and wild shrieks of war. 
That startle the sweet peace of England's homes.? 
Fr. Remember, this is holiday, my lord. 

To-morrow will be working-day again, 
And many other morrows. 
Bar. They taste less, 

Poor toilers, of the honey of life than we. 
I pray you, dance again. 



^7 

Win. The wide ring, now. 

Everybody join. Come, Marion, Alice, Kate. 
(yAll except Baron^ JPriar^ Robin and Bridesmaids Join 
hands. Bernardo and Raii?iond have a tiff over Alarion) 

M. A. Rope the friar in, too. ( Catches him inside circle) You 
shan't get out till you dance. Friar Nod. 

Mar. With Winifred. 

Raim. With my lady. 

Fr. Children! Children! {Winifred joins him i?z middle. 
All dance about., till at last friar taps his feet and joins ! 

Win. Heaven bless our good friar ! 

Ai.L. Amen ! 

Fr. ( Out of breath) That was my — first attempt — 

Bar. a most successful beginning. My lady must have you for a 
partner again. 

Raim. A chair to rest you, fatiier. {After all is over Briar has 
a long ft of laughing. Exit L 3 E Merry Andrew. Enter 
L u E Ned Baker and Tom Harvey., coining down to 'Lfrofzt) 

Ned. The fun is high, Tom. 

Tom. How many fighting men did you make it.^ 

Ned. Less than a dozen. {Friar sobers up at seeing Ned., 
beckons to him.., and whispers brief y) 

Fr.. I suppose, Winnie, now that you're going to live in the castle, 
you'll be a grand court lady like the others. 

Mar. {Aside to girls) She is grown a lady ; but not a bit scorn- 
ful, like the two with their fans and flounces. 

Fr. Fve heard of dames that play all manner of instruments as 
skilfully as a minstrel, and sing in soft foreign tongues, the 
• Tuscan and the Proven9al. 

Win. Why, I know no tongue but our own stubborn Saxon, and 
no songs but the sweet ballads of the country-folk. 

Fr. There's my little loyal girl ! My simple lark of the meadows ! 

Win. Indeed, I am of the meadows. Often I envy the great 
dames their fine manners, never ill-at-ease or uncertain. 

Raim. Peacocks, my lady! Who cares for them.f* The lark's a 
sweeter singer, — and as for the rest, oh, that's all feathers, — 
just feathers and strut. Village girls forme! {To Marion) 

Mar. We've a secret for you, Winified. 

Win. Oh, tell me! {Marion whispers) Over in the meadow.? 
Let's go ! ( Winifred and girls start up stage. 7 he brides- 
maids descend haughtily from thrones) 

Raim. Your peacocks, my lady ! — I mean, — I mean, — your brides- 
maids, my lady! {Exeunt Winif-ed. girls and bridesmaids 
RUE, Winifred throwing kisses to Baroti. Friar with 
Baron., Baijnond xvith Charles and Bernardo. Cheers from 
L u E a7td cries of ''•Harold") 

Fr. That's a village cheer. Harold has won the knight's bow. 

Bar. We have able archers, I hear, in Clifton. {Efiter l 3 e 
Merry Andrexu and several urchins., ?nasked to represent a 
goose, fox., dragon., bear, etc. They drag a cart with cur- 
tained booth) 

M.A. {Aside) You start it, Oliver, you're the biggest. Then let the 
rest join in. {Aloud) My lord — holy friar — fellow-townsmen. 



28 

Fr. What now? {^Raimond puis finger in dragon's mouthy 

gets bitten and punishes dragon^ 
M. A. In honor of the happy event which we celebrate to-day, 

I have devised a most edifying mystery-play for my lord's 

delectation. 
CiiAS. Isn't this [hie] improper, Bernardo? 
Bern. Go it, bully Andrew ! 
Fr. These mysteries, as now enacted by laymen, often smack of 

impiety. 
■M. A. Impiety ! Oh, your reverence ! It is full of grave matter, 

taken from the scripture, and entitled " Eve, Adam, and the 

Devil." 
ViLi.AGERS. Give it to us. Merry Andrew. 

Bern. I like the Devil. ( Curtain of booth drawn aside. Par- 
ody ad libitum ofz an aticient mystery. Giiffa^tvs. Curtain 

of booth closed) 
Bern. Ha ! ha ! I always did like the Devil. 
Chas. {Reeling r to c) This is [hie] highly improper, before 

the baron. {Business betiveen Charles a?id JSIerry Aiidrew) 
Urchins. {At c rear) Did you ever see pompous Charles 

Bullying tipsy carles? 
Hands in the pillory, feet in the stocks. 
Head thrust through for the rabble's mocks. 
"Oh, this is the physic and this is the dose 
For such carles ! " 
Snarls 
Charles. 

( Curtains of booth drawn asunder, showing efiigy of Charles 

in stocks and pillory) 
Chas. Monstrous impudence ! 
Fr. Tut! tut! Who are these? 
Raim. Merry Andrew's admirers. {Charles staggers out after 

urchins rue. Raimond orders villagers to drag booth out 

L 3 E. Bernardo asleep) 
Bar. What did you say the jester's name is? 
Fr. Andrew, my lord. Merry Andrew we call him. 
M. A. {At I., cu?tningly tvatchful) He is talking about me 

again, — asking my name, I wager. 
Bar. Merry Andrew. H'm ! He makes the rustics laugh. It 

is peppered for those of strong relish. 
M. A. And marking me out for the wittiest wag. 
Fr. Shall I bid him desist, my lord? 
Bar. Oh, no ! 

M. A. Good ! Good ! Keep it up, Andrew, Keep it up ! {Bus- 
iness) 
Bar. Let the clown have his day. But if I should maintain a 

jester (and that I will leave to Winifred) It shall be some 

keen Frenchman or Italian dwarf, full of delicate thrusts at our 

foibles, — some moralist who preaches by ridicule, — 
Raim. Like the hunchback we saw at Padua, my lord? 
Bar. Yes. Hardly such a discordant buffoon as this. 
M. A. Keep it up, Andrew. {Cheers from L u E and cries of 

" Hubert") 



29 

Raim. The other side, now. 

Fr. We were beaten in something. 

Bar. Hubert has no match living at a yeoman's sports. 

M. A. {A^ l) Aha, Ned Baker ; just my man. 

Bar. If Winifred were here, she could give out the prizes. 

Fr. They are over in the meadow. I'll summon her, my lord. 

{Rxit rue) 
Bar. (To Raiinond^ Hear them. {^Roundelay from rue) 
Sweet Winnie Darling she was christened. 

To her cottage shady 
Came a lord with a ring that glistened ; 
Now she is my lady. 

Now she is my lady ; 
Now she is my lady. 
Sweet Winnie Darling she was christened. 
Now she is my lady. 

(^Meanwhile Merry Andrew approaches Ned at 'L front) 
M. A. How fares Jock, Ned.? 
Ned. What's that, you meddling, — 
M. A. Soft ! I'lTi only one tough arm the moix to crack heads 

with. Wher'e's the meeting-place.'' 
Ned. You — by heaven, I mistrust you ! 
M. A. I swear on the cross, I'm honest, Ned. 
Ned. If you tattle, it won't be the first time — 
M. A. I had it from Peter the game was afoot. 
Ned. But it will be the last. 

M. A. He bade me come to you. Where do we meet.-* 
Ned. {Reluctantly) The Witches' Den. 
M. A. What hour.? 
Ned. Curfew. 
M. A. How many.? 
Ned. Fifty score all told. 
M. A. What's the game.? 
Ned. To burn the castle. 
Tom. Hist! 

Ned. You mind what I said. 
Bar. (To Raimond) The knights are returning. (Re-enter 

L u E Sir Frank Romaines, Hubert and youths, one with a 

new bow. They come down c. Jock o' Dean's bugle-call 

heard outside. Ned and Tom start) 
Sir Fr. A village vouth won the bow. Where was Bernardo.? 
Raim. Here! (Shakes him) Weighted down with some dozens 

of bumpers of Ale. He has half that hogshead inside of him. 
Bern. (Waking) I do like the Devil! Go it, bully Andrew! 

(Enter c rear Jock o' Dean) 
vSiR Fr. But as for quarter-staft' sport, I thought you English were 

masters of that. If there's none can prove his title to it better 

than the three who went down so quickly on yonder field, the 

purse of gold goes to Hubert. 
Jock. (Coming forward) She is not here. 
Bar. Come, lads, Harold has won the bow. Who'll be champion 

of the village against Hubert once more. (Long hesitation) 



36 

Bar. And lady Winifred shall award him the prize. None? 

Jock. Yes. One! (Commotion) 

Ned. (At l front) Rash! Rash! 

M. A. (At L front) It's Jock o' Dean ! I am the Baron's jester ! 

Bar. Are you a liegeman of ours.'' 

Jock. Clifton was my home. 

Sir Fr. Strip, then, and let us see the bout. 

Ned. Careful, Jock ! 

Jock. None of them know me. (They battle with quarter-staffs. 

Jock wins. A cheer) 
Sir Fr. (At r) It's the boor's own weapon, and he took you 

tired. 
Hub. No, Sir Frank, I was fairly beaten. 
Bar. Manfully spoken, my manful Hubert! (Holding purse) 

How shall we name the winner.'* 
Jock. ' Let that pass. 

Sir. Fr. You have done what no man ever did before. 
Bar. We should be better known. Enter my service, 

And make the third, with Hubert and Bernardo, 

Of my picked body guard. 
Jock. (Still breathing hard) You honor me. 
Bar. And you, my honest liegemen of the village, 

We should be better known. Good friar Nod 

Has told me of sundry youths among you, driven 

By hunger's cruel pinch to lawless courses. 

To such the warm right hand of clemency 

I would extend. It is my Christian faith 

That when the final reckoning is taken, 

Upon the velvet shoulders of the rich 

Shall poor men's crimes be laid. Therefore, I swear 

Upon my honor as our Lady's knight, 

Within a league of Norman castle, none 

Shall fast while I have wherewithal to feed them. 
(Commotion) 

Further, in witness of my happy union, 

And that the Wedding Feast on Clifton green 

May be a joyful memory among you, 

Twelve of my serfs, — the most deserving twelve, — 

Whom Friar Nod shall name, — shall be set feee. 

And date their freedom by the blessed hour 

When Winnie Darling became Lady Norman. 
(Commotion. Jock rigid at c) 
A FEW. Cheers for Lady Winnie ! 
Tom. (l front) By the cross, 

The Baron's honest, Ned. 
Ned. (Watching Jock) It's all a mask. (Meanwhile Merry 
Andrew sUnks up stage at L, crosses L to R and comes down r 
behind villagers, outlaws and throne, to Sir Frank at R front) 
Bar. Far be it from me to push beyond the bounds 

Of courtesy my wishes, stalwart champion. 

Your bearing and your accent are so gallant, 

Your features fair — 



31 

Jock (Breaking out) By deeds a man is tried. 

Fair features are as empty as glib words. 

Bar. True. You are knightly minded. 

Jock. Conrad Norman, 

You spoke of youths driven to desperate courses. 
There was one such in Clifton. 

Bar. Tell me of him. 

Jock. This for his nature. If it had grave faults 

(And who, not more than mortal, lacks his share) 

They were not of the heart. He sutiered wrong. 

A Baron — of your rank — stole that away 

Which was the sun and centre of his life. 

Yes, more, his life itself essayed to steal. 

And doomed the blameless women of his blood, 

Mother and sister, pure as ever prayed 

For son and brother's weal. 

To wander houseless on the barren moors. 

Then was his spirit clouded. Impulses 

Malign shot through it, like the lightning-streaks 

That for one sudden moment all the heavens 

Ilhmie, — and then the world is darker for them. 

Rob. (At l from) What is Jock saying, Raimond? 

Raim. Jock who? 

Ned. (To Robin) Sh ! 

Bar. I pity him. Where dwells he now.' ' 

Jock. He fights 

For Walter Tyler. 

Sir Fr. That disloyal boor 

Who barks and clamors at the gates of London .'* 

Jock. The smith who in the glory of free manhood 
Dares hold himself the equal of a king ! 

Bar. Who was this youth, so wronged .f" 

Jock. All know him here. 

They know who stocked their larders in the winter, 
Who heaped the poor man's fagot-pile by night, 
Who held the wolt from Widow Samson's door, — 
They know, and bless him. — the accuised. with price 
Upon his head, they bless him. ! Yes. my lord. 
This branded felon, whom an unjust judge 
(His ermine spattered o'er with spots of blood) 
Has made it law to harry like a wolf, 
Might stiiid within your midst this very hour 
And yet be not betiayed ! 

Sir Fr. How not bttiaved ? 

M. A. (r front) SirKnioht! 

Jock. Who dare betray him.'' 

(Merry Andrew edges away confused) Unless some do^ 
That has no fear of good men's execration. 
The jeers of children in the public wa} s. 
And women's pointed fingers ! 

M. A. (Apart) " What care I 

So I be the Baron's jester? 



32 

Bar. Such a youth 

So loved, might be won back to stiaightei' courses. 

His name? 
Jock. Is Jock o'Dean. 

M. A. (I'o Sir Frank, again) Sir Knight! 
Sir Fr. (Intent on Jock) Begone! 
Bar. I never heard his name. 
Jock. You never heard m — 
Bar. And yet you move me in the wretch's favor 

As if it were your own cause that you pleaded. 
Jock. (Apart) He never heard my name? 
Hub. 'Twas some such churl 

Slew Marvin Keep, my lord. 
Bar. Not unprovoked 

That blow, I well believe. Fell Keep, the last 

Of my black uncle's crew. (L;iughter of girls from R u e) 
Raim. Here comes my lady, 

With Marion and the lasses clustered round her. 

All like a wreath of roses in the sunset. (Pale red light. 

Enter rue VVinfred and girls, — a basket of trinkets in Win- 

ified's hands. She passes L of Jock) 
Jock. (Apart) My God, how can you smile so, Winnie Darling? 
Bah. Your bright eyes show the h.ippiness within. 
WiK. [On throne] Such a surprise as Marion puts upon me. 

Look, this— and this — and this, — the lasses' gilts, 

To shovt^ I am not forgot in Clifton yet. 
Bar. You come in season to bestow the prize 

Upon the champion stavesman of the games. 
Win. [ Taking purse] Gladly. Which is the champion stavesman? 
Jock, i ! [Holds out hand. She recognizes him] 
Win. [Agitated, but with dignity and kindness] 

Gladly I share the surplus of mv joy 

Upon this happiest of all da} s to me 

W^ith one I know so worthy, one of old 

So near to me in bhiod, so kind in deed, 

I loved him as a brother. 
Jock. Thanks, my lady! [.Suddenly he tosses purse to L, Merry 
Andrew greedily capturing it, and blows his bugle-call loudly. 
Enter outlaws R 3 E and climb thrones behind Baron and 
Winifred] 
Sir Fr. What means this rigmarole? How the fellow stares 

At lady VVinified! 
Bar. [Apart] I nndeistand. [Jock raises bugle to lips for the 

third cad. Aloud] And gladly I, to cap our Feast's 
rejoicings. 

Acting by special favor for the crown, 

Here, in the King's name, pardon and absolve 

From every mulct and stain of his offences. 

That son of Clifton, pleaded for so nobly. 

The outlaw, Jock o'Dean ! [Jock hesitates in long bewilder- 
ment, bugle very slowly loweied from lips] 
Fr. [Outside and entering rue] My lord! Grave news! 

Wat Tyler's taken and slain ! 



33 

All. Wat Tyler slain ! [Jock rushes to c front. Ned to Jock- 
Outlaws withdraw to c rear] 
Fr. [Ate] A rider just flew by. 

At Smithfield Tyler braved the king. Bold Walworth, 
The mayor of London, pierced him with his sword, 
Then were the rabble leaderless, when lo ! 
The boy-king cried "/ am the people's leader!" 
And led them to the fields of Islington. 
Bar. Cheers for old England and the brave boy-king ! [Cheers. 

Chimes he;ird] 
Fr. The angelus is ringing. [All, except Jock cross themselves] 
Bar. Let us thank Heaven. [Kneels. AH follow, except Jock, — 
outlaws, Ned and Tom, last. Hubert exibits Baron's banner 
with motto. Winifred bursts into teais and Baron puts his 
arm around her. An impulse of jealous rage seizes Jock, who 
draws dagger and advances a step toward throne. The first 
note of the hymn checks him] 
All chant. Ave NLaria, gratia plena, dominus tecum. Benedicta 
tu in mulierihus, et henedictus fructus ventris tui. Jesu. — Amen. 
Jock. [Dropping dagger] God forgive me! [Kneels, complet- 
ing angelus tableau] 

CURTAIN. 



ACT III 



SCENE L 



Willow Road. Flnt at second grooves. Trees at first grooves r and L. 
Kitty Dean discovered, looking to L. 



Kit. You're somewhat troubled for a nine hours' bride. 
What can hive happened that she turned so pale.'' 
The townsfolk gossip in low and awe-struck tones 
As if they'd seen the Virgin. 
[Enter Marion and girls at L, Robin and Raimond, followed 
by Ned Baker, at r] 
Mar. Did you note 

How Winnie colored Alice.? Mark my words, 
We haven't seen the end of it. 
KIt. [Screened by ti'ees at l] Wiiat has happened.'' 
RAim. 1 wonder what I'ld do if I were blind. 
Mar. You'ld be less the merry madcap tliat you are. 
Ned. Marion, Marion, you mustn't be enticing the castle pages 

with your pretty smiles. 
Mar. La, Ned Baker! 
Raim. Enticing me? Oh, no, I'm not old enough for that yet. 

But when I am — 
Mar. When you are.'' 

Raim. When I am, — why, I'll do the enticing with my own pretty 
smiles. [Exeunt pages at l] 



34 

Ned. [Chucking her familivirlv] Marion! Marion! [Kitty 
catches him] Now. don't be jealous, Kitty. It was only fun. 
[Exeunt Marion and giils at n] 
Kit. [Moving to and fro] No, — T — won't. [Exit at l. Enter 
Sir Frank and Hubert, followed by Merry Andrew at r. Exit 
Ned after Kitty at l] 
Sir. Fr. [Laughing] Both tipsy? 

They shall walk home for punishment. You say 

Blind Robin's s.ife with Raimond.'' 
•Hub. Theie they go. 
M. A. A word with you, sir knight. 
Sir Fr. Well, fellow ! 
M. A Sir. 

A word with you, alone. 
Sir Fr. Speak out, sirrah ! 
M. A. Treason, my lord ! 
Sir Fr. The devil ! 
M. A. 'Tis a case 

Of life or death. 
Sir Fr. Hubert, walk on a spell. [Exit Hubert l] 

I think I marked your face. The cap .and bells 

Become you. 
M. A. Aye, the elder baron Norman 

Had promised he would choose me for his fool. 

If Reynard, his old jester, left his service. 

But when he died — 
Sir Fh. He lost his tooth for teasing. 

Well, to the matter! 
M. A. 'Tis from love o' the right 

And hatred of dark councils that I speak. 

The rebels here, with Jock o' Dean, the outlaw. 

Ten hundred strong, attack the castle to-night. 
Sir Fr. The devil ! 
M. A. After that march on to London 

To join the rebels there. 
Sir Fr. Not after that. 

There'll be no after that. To-night, you say.'' 

How learned you of it.^ Gods, if they had caught us ! 

What time and where do they meet.'' What proof have you. 

What proof.'' 
M. A. I knew him b}' his flaxen curls, 

His voice, his matchless skill, his jjroud speech, — 
Sir Fr. Whose.^ 

M. A. The stavesman at the feast vv^as Jock o' Dean. 
Sir Fr. [Startled] Himself, then, was the hero of his tale. 

And you — you knew him and were silent ! 
M. A. Sir, 

You know not what a fiend he is to ci'oss. 
Sir Fr. With all our blades to guard you, your tongue froze. 

Bah ! Sheer fanfaronade ! They'll never come. 
[Re-enter Kitty behind trees at l] 



35 

M. A. This Dean bears private hatred to the Baron. 

He has sworn to make a bonfire of his castle. 
Sir Fr. No, they'll not trouble us. All \ ou churls are cowards. 

You'll fight at odds ot nine to one or so. 

By heaven, I hope they come ! What hour.'' 
M. A. At curfew 

They meet. 
Sir Fr. Look well no soul shall know of this. 

To horse ! 
M. A. Mvlord! 

Sir Fr. [OHering purse] Pla ! I forgot your pay. 
M. A. 'Twas not for gold, sir, that I s.poke. 
Sir Fr. The devil ! 

'Tis a new brand of yokel nowadays, 

Too proud to take his pay. 
M. A- [Eagerly] My lord has seen 

I have some knack to fling a pleasant jest. 

I oiten met Reynard in wit-combats. 

His wit was brackish ; mine is tart. In rhymes 

He owned I was his match. And my lord knows 

How rhyming gives a tang to jester's jibes. 

Then I am quick ; can turn a handspring, juggle. 

Test me, my lord. Invite some day to ilinner 

The soberest company that you can gather. — 

A sole inn, hen-pecked judge, that never smiled 

Since he was wigged, — squires, bishops, doctors, dons, 

I wager I'll capsize their gravity. 

Before the banquet's through, I'll have them all 

Shrieking with laughter, like a tickled boy. 
Sir Fr. And so vou itch to be the castle jester.'' 
M. A. [Eagerly] Av ! What think you of my chance.^ 
Sir Fr. [Deliberately] ^ I think 

If you were — somewhat washed, — and duly whipped, — 

You'ld make a caj^ital scullion. [Throwing down purse] 

The deuce of it 

That one must use such traitors ! [Exit l] 
M. A. [Hoarse with rage] These my thanks.'' 

I would to God that I had let it burn. 

You sneering hound ! 
Kit. Tou hound ! — The friar's cell ! [Exit behind trees at r] 
Ned. [Outside] Kitty! [Enter Ned from behind trees at l] 
Tom. [At r ist e] Kitty! [Merry Andrew puts foot on purse. 
Meanwhile Bernardo's voice is heard from r singing] 
Old Grandmother Bat 
Had a heretic cat 

That would nibble the bacon on Friday. 
You might serve her a dish 
Of the daintiest fish, 

But she'ld just pull her whiskers more tidy, 
Singing" Fol-da-rol-ope 
■ A fig for the Pope—" 



36 

[Merry Andrew picks up purse. As he does so Tom meets 
Ned at c, plucks liis arm and points to Merry Andrew] 
Ned. Kitty ! [Exit Ned and Tom beliind trees at R and l] 
Bern. [Entering at r] Hey, Jolly Andrew, what you picking 

up there.'' 
M. A. Bramble-berries. 

Bern. Guess you don't find many this time o'year. Tolly. [Enter 
at L Charles holding dragon by the ear. Dragon's head 
opened back, revealing a ragged urchin] 
Chas. Eh, will you call names.'' 

M. A. [Resum.ing jester's manner] Dang it, Punch, let the lad be. 
Bern. Yes, dang it, let him be. 
Chas. What [hie] language do I hear.'' 
M. A. Well, damn it, then, if you're so particular about your 

grammar. 
Bern. Yes, damn it then, if you're so p'ticul'r 'bout your [hie] 

grandma. 
Chas. Bernardo, [hie] I'm astonished. Hearing such unusual 
language from you i am forced to the conclusion that you are 
[hie] tipsy. _ 
Bern. Only a little jolly, Charles. It's jolly to say damn. 
Damn, damn, damn, damn, 
Mildam, Amsterdam, beldam, damn-damn. 
Chas. Bernardo — the use of profane language is highly improper, 

— and not on moral grounds alone — 
M. A. It's a bad habit. Bt-rnardo. 
Bern. A damned bad habit. Jolly. 

Chas. But on intellectual grounds, also, — intellectual grounds. 
The man who uses profane language simply cannot articulate 
the emotions that are surging in his bosom. So he rips out an 
oath that lias no more intelligibility [Urchin blubbers] no more 
unintellisjibility, I say, than the roar of a [hie] nangry lion. 
[Fox, goose, donkey, etc., appear behind trees at R. Merry 
Andrew coaches them. Urchin escapes] 

Did you ever see pompous Charles 
Bullying tipsy carles.'' 
Hands in the pillory, feet in the stocks. 
Head thrust through for the rabble's mocks, 
"Oh, this is the physic and this is the dose 
For such carles," 
Snarles 
Charles ! 
Chas. [Hie] Damnation ! [Exeunt Charles and urchins behind 

trees at r] 
Bern. Ha! Ha! Ha! Wasn't the devil bully .^ I say, led's 

play chuck-farthing. 
M. A. [Imitating] Can't articulate emozhuns zurging in his 

bosom. 
Bern. Ha! Ha! Ha! Jolly, Andrew, Jolly. Everybody's 
jolly. I'm jolly. You're jolly. Beadle's jolly. 
Old Grandmother Bat 
Had a heretic cat, etc. [Exit l] 



37 

M. A. [Changing] Scullion! — It sAall hum. 

To the Witch's Den! To the Witch's Den. [Exit behind 
trees at l] 

SCENE 11. 

Friar Nod's Cell. Flat at third grooves. Table at c, with pitcher, can- 
dle and loaf. Door at R in flat. Friar discovered at table, writing. 



Fr. There are the twelve serfs all written out as freemen. Some 
will be gladdened and some will be grieved. And lady Wini- 
fred [God bless her] has vowed a candelabra for the village 
chapel. [Rises and removes cowl] Qiiietly, quietly we do 
the Lord's work. Isn't this better than your scowling rebel- 
lions, Wat Tyler, your futile revolutions of the people.'* Bub- 
bles all ! Bubbles all ! [A knock] Come in ! [Enter 
Kitty Dean] 

Kit. Oh, friar Nod, save him ! 

Fr. Kitty.? 

Kit. Jock is betrayed by Merry Andrew. 

Fr. By whom.? Calm yourself, my good girl. Slowly, slowly. 

Kit. All day long I kept away from the village, comforting 
mother at home. But at nightfall something dragged me out. 
I lurked on the road where their cavalcade was to pass, riding 
back from the Green to the castle. The lord and she rode at 
the head. (She looked pale and I did'nt envy her her side- 
saddle,) then knights, and last of all a knight and a guard, with 
Merry Andrew, — that leering, crouching, spying — 

Fr. Well, well ! 

Kit. There is some plot to burn the castle to-night. 

Fr. To -Kitty! 

Kit. Merry Andrew betrayed him to the knight. 

Fr. To — burn the castle ! 

Kit, Oh, friar Nod, save him ! 

Fr. This was the game that brought him to Clifton ! 
My cowl ! I must trudge to the castle. 

Kit. Why thither.? 

Fr. To warn the Baron. 

Kit. The Baron z's warned. 

Fr. And to plead for Jock. 

Kit, [Prou.lly] Plead for him. No, 

Fr. Not that.? [A knock] Who's there.? 

Voice. Ned Baker. 

Kit. Ned Baker.? [Pouting] I won't see him. I hate Ned 
Baker. 

Fr. Tut! tut! [Knock] Come in! [Enter Ned. Kitty at 
L rear] 

Fr. You came.? 

Ned. For the message, as you bade me, sir. 

Fr. [Sternly] And well for you, you poacher, you law-breaker, 
you midnight marauder ! And well for you all ! 



38 

Ned [At r, sheepishly, fumbling with cap] Your reverence had 
A message to Madam Dean. 

Fr. Ay, a message, — but not to Madam Dean. [Sits at table] 

Ned. It's near curfew time, your reverence. 

Fr. Well.? 

Ned. If you delay me long, I'll be late. 

Fr. For the meeting, eh.'* 

Ned. [Apart] Oh, my tattling tongue ! 

Fr. [Writing] I have something here that will spoil your meet- 
ings. Ah, Ned Baker, I alwavs took you to be a good 
respectable boy. 

Ned. [Apart] I'm in for a rasping now. 

Fr. You and Kitty Dean meet often nowadays, I hear, — she going 
to her milking and ^ ou to your mowing, of a morning. 

Ned. Oh — aye, we fall in sometimes. 

Fr. And fall out, eh.'' So the gossips are talking. 

Ned. Oh, they w/// gabble, your reverence. 

Fr. 'Twas more than gabble, more than gabble, I fear. [Writes] 
"Ned's jilted the spitfire at last," the}' say. " She's lost one 
lad by her temper. Will she ever get another .f*" [Dumb- 
show of indignation by Kitty] So they say. 

Ned. Oh, Kitty and me have our spats, and then we make up 
again as cosy as our betters. [Kitty pleased] 

Fr. 1 know her, the vixen, from so high up. She'll astonish you, 
Ned, with her tantrum.s, if ever she gets you. [Kitty indignant] 

Ned. I like a girl that shows spirit, your reverence. [Kitty pleased] 

Fr. Oh. you do.? 

Ned. None of your dull, smirking silly Sally Sweeteyes for me. 

Fr. Slie'll talk you deaf in a fortnight. 

Ned. [Laughing] Oh, I never mind it; in one ear and out the 
other. [Kitty displeased] 

Fr. Come now, surely you don't think she's pretty.? [Kitty 
interested] 

N£d. Pretty ? 

Fr. As gills go. Of course, I'm no judge, an old [ha ! ha !] old 
bachelor like me; but I sl:ould take (er) Marion to be a 
comelier lass than Kitty Dean. (Kitty ktenly interested) 

Ned. What! That simpering, saucer-eyed, •• Hug-me-tight 
Orlando," compared with Kitty! (Kitty delighted) Oh, 
no, Kitty's downiight. but she's natural. 

Fr. (Clnickling, then suddenly serious) Give that to Jock. 

Ned and Kitty. Jock ! 

Fr. Say 1 know whereof I write. You'ld do a little turn to save 
Jock's head, I suppose.? 

Ned. rid give my own. (Kitty rushes forward and hugs him) 

Kit. Oh, you dear, faithful Ned ! 

Ned. Kitty — you didn't treat me like that on the road, when 
Marion — 

Kit. (Stopping his mouth) Hush ! Never mind ! 

Nkd. Why, wliat aie those clouds I see in }Our eyes.? 

Kit. Look closer. Don't you S'^e a — rainbow, too.? (Business of 
their kissing and Friar's catching them) 



39 

Fr. Tut! tut! 

Kit. Oh, father, we can never repay you. 

Fr. Pray for me, children. Remember me night and morning 

when you present your petitions to God. (A bell rings) 
Ned. Curfew ! I'm late for the meeting. 
Kit. Run, Ned, run ! (Both to D f) 
Fr. (At l) I dandled him as a babe. I shrived him as a lad. 

Heaven forgive me if I am abetting him in evil now ! (Exit Ned) 
Kit. (At d f) Are you sure you have the letter sate.? He is too 

far. Dear friar Nod ! (Kisses him rapturously) 
Fr. (In consternation) That's a mortal sin. 



SCENE III. 
The Witches' Den. Dark. Rebels with pikes, one with torch. 



Rebels. Who's there.? (Enter c d f Tom Harvey. Torch 

flashed upon him) ^ 

Tom. Tom Harvey. Are the boys all here.? 

Rebs. Not Iialf yet, and the Dalesmen haven't come. Who's 
there.? (Enter c d f Merry Andrew. Surprise) It's Merry 
Andrew. 
M. A. Is all ready.? (Enter c d f Jock o' Dean) 
Jock. Tom, to the castle and call Forster off. 

Bid him to meet us at the cross-roads. Thence 

We march straightway to London. (Silence. Enter c D f 
Ned Baker) 
Ned. Am I late.? 

A message from the friar. 
Tom. For who .? 
Nrd. For Jock. 
Tom. What's in the friar's message.? (Jock reads it by torch, 

looking at Merry Andrew) 
Jock. " You are betrayed " — 
All. Betrayed ! 
M. A. (Apart) Betrayed ! 
Jock. " by Merry — Merry Andrew ! " 
All. Betrayed by Merry Andrew ! 
M. A. It's a lie. 

If fifty friars wrote it. Here's my pike 

To prove it. I'm for burning the castle — to-night ! 
Jock. (Quickly) No more o' that ! 
M. A. I hate their whole proud crew ! 
Ned. Now, by Saint George, that had the ring of truth. 
M. A. (Jesting) As true as fidtller Cob's G string, my hearties. 
Tom. (Fiercely) What were you saying to the knight, Romaines, 

On Willow Road, that time.? 
M. A. What time.? Nothing. 

Just bandying a jest. (Purse falls from his bosom) 



Ned. a purse ! Silver. 

Tom. 'Twas that we saw him stooping to pick up. 

M. A. You lie. It's the Baron's purse Jock threw away. 

Nkd. You lie yourself, the Baron's purse was gold. 

M. A. Only a largei'S for a trick I played. 

Tom. You'll play no more such tricks. 

M. A. Let me tell all, 

Help ! 
Tom. Help's far away. 
M. A. I have castle secrets. 
Jock. He doubles in his treason like a fox. 
M. A. I will confess. 
Tom. Confess then, quick. 
Ned. To God. 

Hold ! Give him time to make his peace with heaven. 
Tom. One minute. 
Nkd. On your knees. 
M. A. Oh, hear me. 
Ned. Qiiick ! 

Tom. (Lauofhing grimly) Aloud ! or there's no virtue in it. 
M. A. (Abjectly to Jock) Jock ! 

Hear me ! We were school-fellows ! Hold them back ! 

Mercy ! 
Tom. For traitors ? 
All. None. 
Ned. He sold you cheap, — 

A handful of Romaines's silver — 
M. A. Nay — (Jock spurns him and the rebels force him to his knees) 
Tom. Ten seconds. 
Ned. Has*^e! 
M. A. (Kneeling, torch flashed on his face by Ned) 

Oh, God, I am a sinner. 
Tom. Twenty ! 
M. A. Oh. God forgive me. It was I 

Who stole the gilded chalice from Thine altar. 
All. Ua\ ha! 
M. A. I dared not sell it to the Jews. 

'Tis hid beneath my hearth. 
Ned. Go on ! 
All. Go on ! 

M. A. I ruined Harker's Moll ! 
All. (Fiercely) Ha ! 
M. A. It was I 

Tattled to Marvin Keep, the castle warden, 

Of young Tom Harvey's poaching. 
Tom. On your head 

My Tom's blood? Down to hell! (Merry Andrew maker 
a break to R and escapes) 
Ned. Gone ! 

Tom. (Outside) Curse you, viper ! 
Ned. He'll never show his head again in Clifton. 
Jock. Now wiio'U be herald to call Forster off .'' (Hesitation) 

And then the march to London I 



41 



Tom. 



Rebs. 
Tom. 
Rebs. 
Jock. 



Tom. 
Jock. 



Tom. 

Nkd. 

Tom. 

Ned. 
Tom. 
Ned. 
Jock. 
Tom. 

Jock. 



Ned. 
Jock. 
Ned. 



(Re-entering) Tyler's slain. 

Tlie cause is lost. What's for it but to yield.? 
My heart was never in it. 

Nor mine ! Nor mine ! 

Away from here ! 
(Moving) Away ! 

What, flinching, comrades.? 
No, on to London and avenge Wat Tyler. 
Strike! 

Are we dolts to walk into the trap 
That's set for us.? Away ! I'll fight my fight, 
But I'll not leap into a lion's jaws. 

Would you cry quarter to the loeman's drums. 
Heard miles away? *Twas not like this our sires, 
Like rabbits, scurried to their holes at Hastings 
Before the Norman, William. Men of Kent, 
The rumor's false. Or if 'tis true, who'll say 
A hundred leaders did not leap afoot 
To take Wat Tyler's place? To London then, 
To London duty calls you. (Hesitation) 
By your wrongs, 

By all the years of insult, shame, pollution. 
That lie behind you and will lie before, 
In God's name, in the name of common honor, 
Each man that swore up')n the holy cross 
To follow Wat through weal or woe, stand forth 
And plant his pike by mine. (Ned comes forward) 
One? And you pass 

For men? For English men? Why, now I think 
There are no men in England, and the lords 
Rule rightly o'er such cattle. 

We'ld be daft 
To stay and hear this madman. 

(Tauntingly) Twelve made free, 

And one, perhaps, Tom Harvey. 

(To Ned) Shiver your pike 

Against a wall of rock, fool, if you will. 

Another day, mates. 

And another captain ! 

No, Jock forever ! 

Bid them go. 

Jock Hothead ! 
We go unbid ! 

Enough, Ned. Say no more. (Exeunt Rebels at r) 
Oh, tliat a hundred souls like Walter Tyler 
Were found among the yeomanry of England. 
No wanton gatherer of the tax again 
Dare wrong a blacksmith's daughter ! (To c D f) 

Whither now? 

The castle ! 

Whv the castle? 



42 



Jock. 



Ned. 
Jock. 



Ned. 
Jock. 

Ned. 

Jock, 



Ned. 
Jo.K, 
Ned. 
Jock 
Ned. 
Jock, 



(Tenderly) Winifred. (Ned puzzled) 

Ere she awakens to the din of war 
With Forster knocking at her chamber door 
And fifty score of cut-throats at his heels. 
Let Forster drink the malt of his own brewing. 

How base were I, who romped with her in gowns, 
Who was her fondest playmate, I, who plucked 
A May- day garland year by year to crown her. 
How base were I to sufler ruffians mar 
My pretty cousin's bridal ! 
Are you mad.'' 

I never was so sane. 

Why yesterday, 
This morn, i'faith, her very name — 

You lie ! 
I ne'er blasphemed it with a whisper. — His, 
Perhaps. — I wronged him ; he is noble, Ned. 
These clods aspire to freedom.^ Why they lack 
The souls of freemen. Home to the cottage. There 
Bid them await me till the midnight gong. 
Beguile the meantime with gootl news ; Keep's death, 
The Baron's pardon and the cancelled writ. 
See that I find them smiling when I come. 
All's well. One kiss for Kitty, two for mother, 
Then back to the free wild woods, where men are men. 
And woman .'' 

Tiiere's no woman. 
Is this jc-st.^ 

(Fiercely) Jest! 
Risk your life for her} 

' Twas never planned 
One drop of her sweet heart's blond should be drawn. 
My God, I see them now ! lliey force the gate. 
Heap brushwood, ply tiie torch. It fiames ! It flames! 
(Tenderly) Risk of my life, — and you a lover, Ned. 
Had I a million lives, I'ld give them all 
To fend one snowflake from her bosom ! — 
Go ! (Exit Ned vvidi torch) 



SCENE IV. 

Bridal Chamber. Dark. Winifred and Baron on seat R of c. Moon- 
light through stained-glass oriel window at L in flat. Doors at L and at R 
in flat. 



Bar. 



Win. 
Bar. 



Your heart beats fast within your bosom, sweet. 
Let me unbind the clasp that holds your curls. 
You tremble. 

Yes, my Lord. I know not why. 

Lie warm and blushing on my breast, sweet head. 
I love to watch the red spot come and go 
Upon your cheek and guess the vague delights 
And mingled fears that burn it. Sighing, sweet.'' 



43 

Win. ' Tis something heavy weighing on my soul ! 
Bar. Love is a lenient father confessor. 

Speak ! Was there some one earlier, Winifred, 

Your maiden fancy favored ? 
Win. There were youths 

Whose eyes would follow me along the road 

When I went forth to vespers or the mass, 

Now glad, now sad, — 
Bar. So lovers' glances vary 

From hour to hour with the shifts of hope. 
Win Yet I repulsed them all. But there was one 

As far above the rest as you o'er him, 

My cousin and my playmate ; his bold suit 

I never dared deny, — but half from doubt 

And half from fear to pain him (tie was proud) 
■ I let him think I loved him, — rather say 

Forebore to tell him that I loved him not. 

Was it a fault, my lord .'' 
Bar. If it is a sin 

To be too kind, then 'twas a fault. Sweet girl. 

Sweet bride, the very avowal is a proof 

That you are true ; the very scruple sprang 

From love. 
Win. Ah, love is all my conscience. 
Bar. , He, 

This youth, where dwells he now.'' 
Win. Some say he haunts 

The forest and waylays foot- travellers, 

Yet, with a kind of rude and lawless justice. 

Takes from the rich to give unto the poor, 

Like Robin Hood ; and others that he fights 

For Walter Tyler. 
Bar. Shall I name him, love.? 
Win. You? 

Bar. Jock o' Dean, the stavesman. 
Win. (Startled) Then you knew him.'' 
Bar. Men are not wont to be so eloquent 

In pleading others' sorrows. 
Win. And you spnred him.'' 
Bar. Had I not injured him (unwittingly) 

Enough, to win away the perfect flower 

He loved.'' 
Win. Oh, mirror of pure chivalry. 

My. knight! 
Bar. And then I felt a nobleness, 

A struggling honor in that darkened soul, 
.As through some murky cloud we see the light 

Of heaven. — Your cheek is pale. 
Win. I cannot help 

To pity one who loves me so in vain. 

And clouds at thought of him steal o'er my joy. 
(The moonlight is dimmed) 



44 

Bar. This is an hour to lay aside reserve, 

Darling, you love me for myself. 
Win. Oh, Conrad ! 
Bar. Then all the pity of all the woes that shriek 

To heaven for solace shall not cast a shadow 

Upon the bright field of our bliss to-night. (Kisses her) 
Win. Be not importunate. See, what a pall 

Is darkening the moon ! 
Bar. Yet all is calm. 

To-night, love, you are mine, — mine, Winifred, 

As lovers say, but let me say, 1 yours. 
Win. What sound is that, Conrad.? 
Bar. I heard no sound. (Muffled voices heard) 
Win. Down in the court-yard. Look, pray look, my lord. 
Voices. (Faintly) The Baron! Winnie Darling! (They pass 

to window) 
Win. I heard my name, my lord, I'm sure of it. 
Bar. 'Twas but a fancy, or the passing breeze. 
Win. Pehaps 'twas fancy. Yes, I think 'twas fancy. 
Bar. Or the owls that sing a requiem of woe 

Down in the vale at midnight. 
Win. Yes, twas fancy. 

I'm almost sure of it. 
Bar. How calm the nisiht ! 

How the whole world brims over with sweet peace ! 

And look, the moon steals out. 'Twas but a cloud. 

Come, Winifred. (Flashes of fire and gradually increased 

illumination through the window) 
Win. It is no moon, but flames 

That leap and flare. (Uproar approaching from l. 

Shrieks of women. Voices as before. Clashing of arms) 
Bar. . What brawl is this.? 

(Enter l Raimond, his sword out) Raimond ! 

What means this uproar? Do my high-born guests 

Return my wedding hospitality 

With some rude jest like those wherewith low churls 

Under the windows of new-married couples 

Vex and disturb their bridal slumber.? 
Raim. Sir. 
Win. He bleeds ! 
Raim. A scratch. I slipped upon a pool. 

The rebels are upon us! (Enter l Sir Frank, Hubert and 

Bernardo, holding rebels at bay. Winifred shrieks. They 

bolt the door) 
Bar. Winifred! 
Sir Fr. Qiiick, to the inner chamber with my lady. (Uproar 

from D f) 
Raim. Too late. (Dashes to d F and bolts it) 
Win. (Clinging to Baron at c) Oh, take me to my cottage home. 

I am not suited to so high a station. 
Bar. My dove ! My lark ! Why, this is sudden, Frank 1 
Sir Fr. Nay, we were warned in lime. 



45 

Bar. And yet surprised? 

Sir Fr. Their leader is no churl, or one, at least, 

Well-schooled in ambuscade, — my sentinels 

O'erpowered, the gates unlocked, the hall-ways swarmed 

With ravagers, ere I, who napped so light 

I thought the o'erloud rustle of a leaf 

Would rouse me, rubbed the slumber from my eyes. 

Then what a riot of carnage ! Striplings waked 

From nuptial dreams to that long dream of death ; 

Hoar elders reeling on the pike's blunt thrust ; 

Soft maidens in their night-smocks spared for shame ; 

And all the while one cursed tongue that belled 

" The Bridal Chamber ! To the Bridal Chamber ! " 
Bar. My sword ! 

Win. The flames ! Oh, Mary, how they sing ! 
Hub-. The hubbub gains. Look to my lad}' all. (Hubert and 

Bernardo against door at L. A crash) 
Bar. Who knocks so rudely at my chamber door? 
Sir Fr. Hold fast, stout English oak, or we are lost. 
FoRST. (Outside) One Allan Forster — 
Sir Fr. My old subaltern. 

FoRST. Spokesman for Tyler and the men of Kent. 
Bar. What seek you here? 
FoRST. You and your bride for ransom. 

Then all the treasures that your coffers hold. 

Yield, and I pledge you safety. 
Win. Trust them not. 

Oh, Conrad, trust them not. 
FoRST. Speed me an answer 

Before the flames engulf you. 
Bar. I am not used 

To be commanded in these walls. 
FoRST. Then guard 

More closely a certain breach, the keyhole, namely. 
(Laughter outside) 
Bar. My castle is no straw-heap, but firm rock 

Hewn from the solid ledge on which it stands, 

And will stand while the name of Norman bides, 

For all your rush-lights' singeing. 
Rebs. (Angrily) Pike them ! 
Bar. Go, 

Set fire to bald Ben Snowdon with a candle. 

It is as guilty of your woes as I, 

Who never wronged a foe, — and counted aye 

The men of Kent my friends. (A pause) 
Forst. Your last word? 

Bar. This : my lady and myself are not for ransom. 
Sir Fr. And he that lays a finger on her, first 

Must burst a ring of steel. 
Forst. (Fiercel) ) So be it. Ram 

The door. (Hubert and Bernardo with spears, Sir Frank 
and Raimond with swords, face door i.. Crash. Winnie 
shrieks. Enter Forster with rebels) 



46 

FoRST. Cut down the others. Bind the couple. 

Bar. Unclasp me, love. 

Win. Conrad, you are unarmed, 

Defenceless. 
Sir. Fr. (Engaging Forster) You bore my ensign once. 
FoRST. In Flanders. 
Sir Fr. Then bear it now — a Templar's falchion thrust 

Hilt-deep into a filthy heathen's heart. (Low murmurs out- 
side : — " VVat Tyler's slain." Rebels press the defenders back) 
Win. Oh, Mary, send us, in thy grace, a savior ! (Jock o' Dean 

rushes in at l) 
Jock. Away ! The cause is lost. 
FoRST. (Pressing Sir Frank) The field is won. 
Jock. Wat Tyler's slain ! 
FoRST. I budge for no man's fall 

With victory at my sword's point. 
Rebs. T)^ler slain .'' 

Jock. Back! Speed! The rest are scudding. 
FoRST. Stand your ground. 
Jock. (Attacking them) Cut-throats! 

FoRST. Ho, traitor! (Stabs Jock. Sir Frank disarms Forster) 
Sir Fr. Measure your length, dog ! 
FoRST. Qijarter.'' 
Sir Fr. What, only quarter.? Ay, the half, and whole — 

Of my blade's length in your vitals. (Kills Forster. Rebels 
flee.) 

Head and trunk 

Part company. We have them. Bar the door. (Jock falls 
at c front.) 
Bar. The stavesman ! 
Sir Fr. Which.? Soho, sir Jock o' Dean, 

My hero bold. 
Jock. (Feebly) No hero, but a man ! 
Bern, (l rear) Hubert is dead, my lord ! 
Sir Fr. What, dead.? Poor lad ! 
Bern. He was my brother-in-arms, — as true a soldier 

As ever held a blade. 
Sir Fr. Poor lad ! Poor lad ! 

This scorpion in his writhing's stung himself. 
Bar. No scorpion, Frank. He turned the tide for us. 
Sir Fr. Ay, by his craven cry. 
Bar. By knightly valor. 
Sir Fr. The outlaw, Forster's second.? Why, the spy 

Singled him out as your most deadly foe. 
Bar. I only know his bosom barred the way 

Three cut-throats would have hewn to Winifred. 

It may be sweet repentance touched his heart ; 

Even so the lor'dliest of the saints in heaven 

Are won from error's ranks. 
Sir Fr. (Scornfully) What diadem, then, 

Must wait this robber's soul I 



47 

Win. (With spirit) The crown of those 

Who die for love of others ! 
Raim. (At window) Saved! We are saved ! 

The tires go down, and helter-skelter crowds 

Are hurrying from our portals down the steep. (Cries 
renewed from rear and receding now, "Wat Tyler's slain." 
Illumination ends. Only moonlight) 
Jock. (Raving) He does not love as I, — I, who have "known you 

Moi^e years than he has months. 
Win. Take me away ! (Baron guides her to couch r of c) 
Jock. (Raving) Have you forgotten, Winifred, so soon .? 

' Twas on a summer's eve, — so long ago, — 

Nay, scarce a year, — and yet it seems so long. 

The old folks smiled to see us walk together. 

That night my lips were trembling forth such words, 
• So wild, so fast, — and you, you spoke with thoughts. 

For yours were writ so truthful in your eyes. 

How could I help divine your meaning so.'' 

Have 3^ou forgotten ? 
Win. Oh, my heart is breaking! 
Bar. Else were it wrought of stone. 
Jock. (Raving) And did you think 

That only lords knew chivalry.? 
Bar. (Starting to c) A leech ! 

Bandage his wound ! All pomp of mine be dust, 

Before yon maityr's blood of sacrifice 

Shall stain this bridal chamber! (Sir Frank tears off his 

scarf and gives to Baron) 
Jock. (Raving) Kitty, you 

Take hands with Ned, and 1, with Winnie. So. 

We shall be merry all. ' Tis Hallowe'en. 

The dance is ready. Come. — Oh, no, that's over. 
(Turns to Winifred on couch and reaches out his hands) 

Sweet Winnie Darling! 
Win. (Tearfully) Jock ! (She rushes to c. Jock kisses her 

hand, smiles, and dies in her arms) 



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